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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24389866">Serpents and Pyramids</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/boredom/pseuds/boredom'>boredom</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Whump (Good Omens), Aziraphale is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), BAMF Aziraphale (Good Omens), BAMF Crowley (Good Omens), Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Whump (Good Omens), Crowley is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Crowley is So Done (Good Omens), Crowley is a Tease (Good Omens), Egypt, Emotional Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fat Shaming, Flirting, Gabriel is Abusive, Gaslighting, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Its not 6000 years, M/M, Mentions of Death, Minor Character Death, POV Aziraphale (Good Omens), Protective Crowley (Good Omens), References to eating disorders, Romance, Slow Burn, Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), Top Crowley (Good Omens), Verbal Abuse, but its close, not really enemies though</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:47:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>95,821</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24389866</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/boredom/pseuds/boredom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since he was young, Ezra Fell dreamed of adventure. He dreamed of far off destinations and dashing heroes. He dreamed of danger and excitement. He dreamed of exploration and romance. Now, as an adult, his life is much less exotic locales and much more boring political dinner parties with his fiancé, Gabriel Messenger. But a chance meeting with a literary agent might be his last chance at the adventure he sought as a child. </p><p>Gabriel would surely support him. </p><p>Right? </p><p>And he could never fall for the brash and abrasive Mr. Anthony J. Crowley.</p><p>Right?</p><p>It was just one silly little trip to find a silly little amulet in Egypt.</p><p>Right?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Gabriel (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1049</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>771</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Bittersweet Good Omens, Good Omens Human AUs, Top Crowley Library</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Growing up means relinquishing boyhood dreams</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was inspired by this picture (https://whiteleyfoster.tumblr.com/post/611957721426804736/in-the-early-1900s-aziraphale-is-sent-to-egypt-to) drawn by Whiteley Foster. I absolutely love their art style so definitely check them out. </p><p>As for the setting, It’s a much kinder version of the 1920s. I love the aesthetic, but I don’t like how most people were treated. I am very much aware that women, people of color, queer folk, and other non-heterosexual, cis-gendered white men were treated like garbage, subhuman and with horrors I can only image. Because I want this to be a softer, kinder, escapist type story, those problems will not be addressed. That doesn’t mean that there won’t be angst or some dark things discussed (please mind the tags and let me know if I missed anything) but this is definitely more like how I wish the world were and not how it actually is. So feel free to come in, take a load off, and escape for just a bit.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If one were to ask what Ezra Fell’s mother did for a living, he would proudly say, “She created the world!” </p><p>This was, of course, incorrect. Ms. Fell did not create the world, though she was a brilliant map maker. As soon as she found out she was pregnant with Ezra, she set out to create the most detailed map of the world for its time. It was absolutely beautiful. A masterful work of art that had tiny details from the countries and kingdoms of the world that really made it pop. </p><p>Ms. Fell was not just a mapmaker; she was also an adventurer. She had friends all over the world from her travels and she would regale them to Ezra with much bravado. Her talk of Ottoman Sultanas and New Orleans psychics never ceased to amaze him. </p><p>“I want to go with you!” His mind was one of a stubborn child, not quite understanding the true dangers of the world. </p><p>“When you’re older, love.” She kissed his forehead and tucked him into bed. </p><p>“I am older!” At four and a half (the half was important) how much older could he be? He was practically an adult at that age. </p><p>“Don’t you worry, I will take you on an adventure soon enough. For now, focus on your studies. It’ll help you in the future.” </p><p>Ezra would always ask and the answer would always be the same. He wasn’t angry at his mother. Quite the opposite. He trusted one day she would take him to every corner of the world. But in his tiny, childlike mind, he worried she would forget. So he started putting pins in the map she made for him. </p><p>One of Ms. Fell’s friends saw this and nearly fainted. “You wouldn’t put pins in a Da Vinci!” She exclaimed. </p><p>“I am not Da Vinci. Besides, I do think Da Vinci put pins in his work all the time.” </p><p>Ezra beamed at his mother’s words. He liked Da Vinci, and he liked putting pins in the map. There were so many countries and so many cities. He wanted to make sure they got to see it all. There were pins in most of Europe, Russia, China, a few scattered in America, Peru, and Brazil. </p><p>“Well then,” Ms. Device said, turning to Ezra, “where do you want to go most?” </p><p>Ezra thought about it. He wanted to go everywhere. Picking one country was like picking only one dessert to eat for the rest of your life. They were all so different and with so many secrets. </p><p>He glanced back towards the map, his eyes settling on one country in particular. “Egypt,” he said with finality all children spoke from time to time. “I want to explore Egypt.” </p><p>Ms. Fell beamed. “Excellent choice, love. I think you’ll really love Egypt.” </p><p>As he got older, they did start traveling more. It was mostly to France and occasionally down to Italy or over to Germany. Ezra sometimes felt as though his mother had cut off a part of herself to raise him. Surely, she must miss going off at a moment's notice with no idea as to when she would be back. He felt guilty that she was only taking him to a few European countries. </p><p>Paris was lovely and full of artists who would laugh, drink, and smoke until the sun came up. Ezra had his first glass of wine at a dinner party with some writers in France. </p><p>“And you, Ezra?” One of them asked, “What are you going to do with that mind of yours?” </p><p>He had been listening with rapt attention to the men and women at the party. The life of a writer, to bring stories to life for readers all over the world, the thought sent a strange sensation through his body. He felt his heart speed up and his stomach flip with excitement. </p><p>“Perhaps--” should he even mention it to these people? They would probably laugh at him, tell him that he wasn’t good enough to be a writer. He looked over at his mother, who smiled encouragingly. It was all the courage he needed. “Perhaps a writer. An adventure writer.” </p><p>The room burst into laughter, but not laughter that was making fun of him. Rather, the laughter of joy and mirth. </p><p>“You’ve raised him right!” One woman said, squeezing his mother tight. “Start writing your adventures now, boy. You’ll need to learn the tricks of the trade so when you burst onto the scene, you can do your adventures justice.” </p><p>Ezra looked down at his wine glass, cheeks heating up. “I haven’t really gone on any adventures.” </p><p>The man next to him gasped. “Et oui?” He asked. “I suppose being in a room full of drunk artists is not an adventure to you.” He turned to Ezra’s mother. “Madame, you must take this boy out on a true adventure, if our company truly is so boring!”</p><p>He felt silly and wondered if he truly insulted his hosts. When he returned home, he took pen to paper and scribbled out their Parisian adventure. It was rather short, not really a novel. His mother looked it over and corrected some grammar and spelling issues, he sent it off to a literary magazine. Surprisingly, they published it. </p><p>‘A Night in Paris’ became Ezra’s first commercial success. It was just the start he needed. </p><p>“Ezra,” his mother said one night over dinner. </p><p>“Yes, mother?” </p><p>She didn’t sound angry. There was nothing to be angry about. He was doing fine in school and had been working on his writing on the side, building his skills so the next adventure he wrote about would be even better. </p><p>“You’re getting older. You are turning into a proper young gentleman.” </p><p>He smiled. “Yes, thanks to you.” </p><p>“You still have a few months left of school but I was thinking this summer how about we go somewhere, before you start university in the fall.” </p><p>“Oh, that would be lovely. Where were you thinking of going?” </p><p>“Somewhere in the south.” </p><p>“Like Nice?” </p><p>“Further south.” </p><p>“Rome?”</p><p>“Further.” </p><p>“Sicily?” </p><p>She laughed. “No, I was thinking of an adventure in Egypt.” </p><p>He could hardly believe his ears. Egypt! Egypt! Where there were grand pyramids and tombs filled with treasure! Where it was much, much hotter than England and camels roamed free!  </p><p>“Really?” He was practically bouncing with excitement. He had never left Europe and to think the first country he would visit would be Egypt! </p><p>“Yes.” She laughed. “I have some friends there and they can take us to all the good places. You’ll have to think of your story, though. No one wants to read a rambling book about someone’s vacation.</p><p>“Oh, I’ll start researching right away.” </p><p>“As long as your grades don’t drop. I’ll not be having my brilliant son unable to graduate from his studies because he’s too excited for Egypt.” </p><p>“Of course, mother. I won’t let you down.”</p><p>He kissed her cheek and made his way to his room. He wasn’t sure how he was going to sleep tonight. There was so much to plan, so much to research. And he still had his homework to complete and friends to entertain. His life stretched out in front of him and he could see all the wonderful things he would do.</p><p>******</p><p>“I’m sorry for your loss,” Ms. Device said. Her young daughter, Anathema, who was a few years younger than Ezra, stared up at him, dark eyes unblinking. </p><p>“Thank you. And thank you for the flowers.” Ezra sniffed and forced his tears not to fall. It would not do to sob in front of all of these people. And there were a lot of people. </p><p>“I’m so sorry, dear,” Madam Tracy, a brilliant journalist, said, wrapping her arms around Ezra and squeezing him tight. “You’ve probably heard a lot of people say ‘if you need anything, let me know’.”</p><p>He nodded. </p><p>“Well, I’ll add that name to the list, but I’ll do you one better. I can stay with you while you get ready for University.”</p><p>“You don’t have to,” Ezra said, the protest weak even to his ears. He had no father. And now he had no mother. He was alone, completely alone. Tonight, after the funeral, he would have to go back to his empty house and lie alone in his bed knowing his mother would never kiss him on the forehead again. She would never tell him her stories again. She would never talk to him again. He would never talk to his mother again. </p><p>Tears were spilling out of his eyes now. He couldn’t stop them. He couldn’t stop sobbing into Madam Tracy’s shoulder. Why did his mother leave him? Why didn’t she stay with him? He wasn’t ready for her to go and now he was on his own. He was completely alone. How was he supposed to go on like this? </p><p>“It’s okay, dear,” Madam Tracy soothed, squeezing him so tightly for a moment, it felt as if he were whole again. “It’ll be alright. Do you want to leave now?” </p><p>“There are still people--”</p><p>“And they’ll understand if you have to leave. No child should have to deal with this, especially not alone. Come on, let’s get you home. You’ve done enough for today. If anyone still wants to talk to you, they can always stop by the estate.” </p><p>She took him by the hand and led him out the door. Ezra reached in his pocket and pulled out a ticket. It was a boat ticket to Cairo. There used to be two of them. The other one had been cremated with his mother. He could still go. She had set up everything. He knew the people he was going to stay with and the itinerary they were supposed to follow. </p><p>“Normally, adventures are a lot less planned, it makes them more fun,” she had said as she went through their tentative plan. </p><p>“Then why so much planning?” </p><p>“It’s really your first time doing something like this, and I want to make sure it doesn’t scare you off for good.” </p><p>“I’m not scared,” Ezra argued, still sounding a bit too childish for his taste. </p><p>She laughed and kissed his forehead. “I know, and I’m thankful for that. A good adventure always makes you uncomfortable, always makes you a little scared, and at least one thing always has to go wrong. But you also have to know your limits, Ezra. Trust me and learn from my mistakes. I wish my parents sat me down and helped me on my first few trips, it would have saved me a lot of heartache and scars.” </p><p>He couldn’t argue with that. </p><p>He closed his eyes and put the ticket back in his pocket. Maybe one day he would go to Egypt. One day he would travel the world. For now it seemed a bit silly. He should focus on University first. There would be plenty of time for an adventure in the future.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Politics is a minefield, even if you aren't a politician</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Let's see how much history I remember about the 1920s and Ancient Egypt, eh? </p><p>Trigger Warning; Fat shaming, references to eating disorders, verbal abuse, gaslighting. Gabriel is an abusive asshole in this chapter so please be safe! Hopefully he won't be around for much longer and we can get to the real romance between Aziraphale and Crowley.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>London, 10 Years Later</p><p>“Remember, get a glass of wine, but don’t drink any,” Gabriel said as he fiddled with his cufflinks again. </p><p>Ezra nodded, already uncomfortable. The suit he was wearing was too tight. Odd considering he was pretty sure he lost some weight. The rest of his clothes fit better. Yet this suit, this blasted suit, seemed to strain at the seams. He was honestly surprised he managed to sit down without tearing his pants. </p><p>“Yes, dear,” he answered. If he didn’t, Gabriel would get angry. And really, who wouldn’t? He was talking to him, trying to make sure Ezra did nothing to embarrass himself. He should be grateful, thankful his fiance was even still his fiance after the last disaster of a dinner party. </p><p>“There are going to be a lot of important people there. Think about it, babe.” </p><p>Ezra cringed. He hated that pet name. </p><p>“Politicians from all over the world. If we play our cards right, I’m a shoo-in for the position. Then it’s only a matter of time before that Prime Minister spot is mine.” </p><p>He didn’t think Gabriel would make a good prime minister. </p><p>Dammit! What kind of fiance doesn’t support his husband-to-be? A terrible one, that’s who. And Ezra was a terrible fiance. He didn’t look the part of a high-profile politician’s husband. He wasn’t very bright and often had his head in the clouds. He wasn’t a great cook and was even worse at keeping house. Gabriel had to take away most of his books. He spent too much time reading and not enough time preparing for the neverending string of guests that came to their large estate in the English countryside. </p><p>Gabriel was handsome and smart, and practically perfect in every way. Honestly, he couldn’t understand why Gabriel was still with him. Ezra was lazy, gluttonous, ugly, and an utter disgrace in most aspects of life. Gabriel should have broken up with him a long time ago. But he didn’t and for that Ezra was grateful. He wasn’t certain he could ever land another partner even half-way as decent as Gabriel. </p><p>“And make sure not to take too much food.” Gabriel’s eyes flicked down to his stomach and Ezra crossed his arms over it instinctively. “We don’t want the American Ambassador’s wife to think I can’t feed you. Though, I suppose if she looks at you she won’t think that.” </p><p>“I’m trying, dear. Really, I am.” He had eaten only lettuce for the past few weeks to try and lose some weight and look better for this event. He felt faint constantly and his hands shook if he held them out for too long. How did Gabriel maintain his fantastic physique?</p><p>“Well, it’s too late now. Just try not to embarrass me like you did last time.” </p><p>Their driver pulled up to the magnificent mansion. </p><p>“I won’t, I promise.” </p><p>Gabriel sighed and pinched his brow. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Ezra. You and I both know you rarely keep your promises.” </p><p>He got out of the car and left him. Ezra had been hoping he would open the door and they would walk arm and arm to the party. But Gabriel was in a bad mood these past few weeks. He had a lot on his plate. Romancing Ezra was not, and should not be his top priority. </p><p>He opened the door and caught up to his fiance. He linked arms with him. Gabriel stiffened and looked as if he were about to scold Ezra. </p><p>“Gabriel!” The American ambassador walked up to them and grinned. </p><p>Like a lamp switch, Gabriel relaxed and smiled. He removed his arm from Ezra’s and draped it over his shoulder, pulling him close. </p><p>“Thaddeus, great to see you again!” The two men shook hands in a grip that looked much too painful for Ezra’s taste. “You’ve met my fiance, Ezra Fell.” </p><p>“Pleasure to see you again,” Ezra shook Mr. Dowling’s hand. </p><p>“Nice to see you again as well. Come on, let’s get a drink. The house red is the best red you can get in Europe.” </p><p>“Does your boss know about your house red?” Gabriel asked with a wink, guiding Ezra through the room. </p><p>He stumbled over his feet. Gabriel’s grip tightened and kept him upright. He didn’t dare apologize, not yet, at least. The more attention he brought to it, the worse it would be. </p><p>“Listen, old sport,” Mr. Dowling poured them each a glass. “If you think the President of the United States is abiding by prohibition, then you clearly don’t know the President of the United States.” </p><p>Gabriel laughed and took a big gulp of wine. Ezra swirled his glass around and pretended to take a sip. The smell was exquisite, full-bodied, and with hints of chocolate. This wine was no doubt delicious, but he could be a bit of a lush and was embarrassing as a drunk. This was Gabriel’s event and he needed to be completely sober to help him get to the next step in his career. </p><p>“Have I shown you the hunting room?” Mr. Dowling asked. “I got a beautiful lion from Africa last July and the taxidermist finished him a few weeks ago.” </p><p>“So long for one stuffed animal?” Gabriel released his hold on Ezra’s shoulders. </p><p>“You can’t rush art. Besides, that lion was a monster. Do you want to see it?” </p><p>“Of course I do!” Gabriel grinned. </p><p>“How about you, Ezra?” </p><p>Ezra hated hunting and he hated seeing the stuffed animals. Something as beautiful as a lion should never be killed for sport. But, he was here for his fiance and he should support his fiance. He opened his mouth to accept the invitation. </p><p>“No,” Gabriel answered for him. “He doesn’t handle dead animals very well. He’s soft like that.” </p><p>Despite the meaning of the words matching Ezra’s own feelings on the matter, there was something about the tone and delivery that made it seem as though he were making fun of him. He didn’t know how to argue against it. </p><p>No. No. He shouldn’t even be wanting to argue with Gabriel. His fiance remembered something about his dislikes. He should be grateful Gabriel wasn’t forcing him to go see a room full of potentially poached and endangered animals. </p><p>“Thank you, dear,” he said with a tight smile. “I’ll definitely mingle with some of the other spouses.” </p><p>Gabriel kissed his cheek and Ezra tried not to wince. He wasn’t very successful, but Gabriel didn’t seem upset. “Behave yourself.” </p><p>To anyone listening, it was a playful joke between lovers. To Ezra, it was a warning. </p><p>Gabriel and Mr. Dowling left him by the table. Ezra let out a sigh and slipped towards the wall. He did want to talk to the other guests. He always loved hearing about people and their stories. However, he was so bad at it. He never knew if he offended anyone and without Gabriel there to help him, he couldn’t possibly trust himself not to make a grievous error. </p><p>“Ezra?” A familiar voice called. </p><p>He looked up to see his friend, Anathema, standing in front of him. She looked spectacular in her dress. Very much in style with the flapper aesthetics that were so popular nowadays. </p><p>“Anathema, dear,” he kissed her cheek. “You look like a Hollywood Starlet. Have you just got finished with a red carpet premiere?”</p><p>Anathema smiled. “You are such a flatterer.”</p><p>“What are you doing here? I thought you hated these high-function parties.” </p><p>She rolled her eyes. “I do, but dad had to go away on business last minute and I figured I could fill in for him. If it helps him approve of Newt, then I’ll do anything.” </p><p>He heard his friend had just gotten engaged to a lovely young man by the name of Newton Pulsifer. There was gossip that he was with her for the money. Ezra knew better. She was not one to be trifled with. If Newt truly were a gold-digger, she was well aware and not the least bit put out by his intentions. </p><p>“Is he here tonight? I’ve yet to meet him.” </p><p>“That’s because Gabriel doesn’t want you meeting anyone,” she grumbled. </p><p>She did not approve of his fiance, never had. When she had taken over as his lawyer, she steadfastly refused to give Ezra his full inheritance, claiming that he should wait until he was married. Gabriel was enraged. Ezra managed to calm him down and convinced him it was for the best. </p><p>“Now, dear,” he said. “I’m here to have a good time. Don’t tell me you’re keeping Newt hidden. I feel as if all of London has met him except for me.” </p><p>“And you won’t be meeting him tonight,” she said. “He’s flying last minute to Berlin with some code breaker or something.” </p><p>“Shame. I was wondering if the rumors were true.” </p><p>“Oh, so there are rumors?” Her voice was calm and even, but her grin was wolfish. She was a trouble-maker and relished being the ‘bad influence’ most of high society labeled her as. Ezra got the feeling her parents did little to squash her rebellious streak. </p><p>“You know as well as I that one does not simply begin a courtship without rumors flying.” </p><p>She linked their arms together and pulled him away from his wall. “Busy bees, all of them. Maybe if they spent more time reading or helping the poor and less time craning their necks to spy on their neighbors, the world would be a better place.” </p><p>“Indeed.” </p><p>She led him through the crowd of people, most in small clusters with drinks in their hands as they talked and laughed. There was a beautiful woman with raven black hair bobbed to just under her ears. She was wearing a ring with the biggest diamond Ezra had ever seen. Was she an heiress? A countess? Perhaps a spy come to infiltrate a party full of top politicians? If she were a spy, would she complete her mission? Or would she fall for her current conversation partner, a beautiful blonde with flowing, wavy hair and a plunging neckline? </p><p>“Thinking of stories?” Anathema asked, her voice tender.</p><p>“Thinking of characters.” He replied. Gabriel had some meetings tomorrow and he would be all alone in their hotel for most of the day. Perhaps he would sit down with his notebooks and write out the story of the spy. If Gabriel liked it, he might even submit it to a literary magazine. He did feel his work had been getting better. </p><p>“Then you’re going to love who you’re about to meet.” </p><p>“Wait, what?” </p><p>Anathema didn’t answer and he found himself face to face with Mrs. Dowling and another woman he had never met before. </p><p>“Ladies, I hope I’m not interrupting,” Anathema said. </p><p>How dare she trick him into talking to the hostess of all people. Gabriel would be furious. He was going to say the wrong thing! He was going to start stuttering! He was going to make a mockery of this fine evening!</p><p>“Not at all,” Mrs. Dowling said. She looked at Ezra, her eyes surveyed him; studied him. She was definitely the kind of woman who could pick up on every little thing. Was there dirt on his face?</p><p>“Who’s your friend?” The other woman asked. </p><p>“Dierdre, Harriet, this is Ezra Fell. Ezra, Dierdre Young, and Harriet Dowling.” </p><p>He wasn’t stupid. He knew who Mrs. Dowling was. He held out his hand and shook theirs. “Pleasure to meet you, ladies.”</p><p>“Ezra Fell, why does that name sound familiar?” Ms. Young asked. </p><p>“Probably because of my mother.” </p><p>Mrs. Dowling nodded and smiled. “Of course, she was that brilliant mapmaker, adventurer, writer, journalist, daredevil. Was there anything your mother didn’t do?” </p><p>“I don’t think she was ever in the circus.” </p><p>“I don’t know,” Ms. Young said, “She spent some time in the Midwest traveling around. I hear when she got back to England, she was a master trapeze artist.” </p><p>Ezra smiled, he did love to hear about her past. It wasn’t the same as when she told the stories, but it was a decent substitute. </p><p>“I am so sorry for your loss,” Mrs. Dowling said. She sounded sincere. </p><p>“I’m planning to be with my husband and Adam for as long as possible,” Ms. Young said. “But I know one day Adam will have to plan my funeral. That is the ultimate goal, for your children to outlive you. It’s still hard to think that’ll happen one day.” </p><p>“But if we’ve raised them right, then they’ll be able to conquer anything.” Mrs. Dowling smiled and held up her glass. “To life, and the long lives of our children.” </p><p>“Here, here.” Anathema clinked their glasses together and they all took a drink. </p><p>Ezra hazarded more than a sip. Oh, the wine was divine. But he mustn’t drink more. He mustn’t risk anything; especially with the hostess right in front of him. </p><p>“And you’re engaged to one of these highbinders?” Mrs. Dowling asked. </p><p>Ezra choked. Her husband was one of these… well, he wasn’t about to use such a term for them. </p><p>“Gabriel Messenger.” Perhaps the slang was different in America. </p><p>“Ah,” Ms. Young smacked her lips and took another sip of wine. “Mr. Messenger. I hear he’s got his eye on the top office. Any idea if he’ll make it?” </p><p>“He is ambitious, but the people can be hard to predict.” </p><p>“People’s got nothing to do with it, wise head.” Mrs. Dowling had clearly been in politics for too long. </p><p>“Enough about these chumps,” Anathema cut in. Right, she brought him over here for a reason. Never get between Anathema and her missions. “The reason I brought Ezra over tonight is his brilliant writings.” </p><p>Oh, oh no. Not now! He was hardly a brilliant writer. One published piece does not a writer make. He took another gulp of wine and hoped his cheeks weren’t flushing with embarrassment.</p><p>“Oh, a writer, eh?” Ms. Young lit up. “I happen to run a very well known publishing house.” </p><p>“Ezra’s always wanted to break into the industry. He even got a piece published in the Tadfield Digest when he was eleven.” </p><p>“That’s amazing!” Mrs. Dowling gasped. “That magazine is nearly impossible to get into. Even established writers have problems. And you got in at such a young age?” </p><p>“We might be dealing with the Beethoven of the writing world,” Ms. Young added. </p><p>“I’m hardly anywhere near good enough for that comparison, madam.” He felt himself blushing. </p><p>“So polite and charming too. I could sell you in an instant.” </p><p>“She means your writing,” Anathema assured him. Good, he was starting to wonder if he was being pressured into becoming a pro skirt. </p><p>“Well then, Mr. Fell, what are you interested in writing?” Mrs. Dowling asked; her voice honey-sweet. “What stories do you have swirling around in that head of yours?” </p><p>He shouldn’t.</p><p>He really shouldn’t. </p><p>Gabriel did not want a writer as a husband. He wanted a husband as a husband. He could barely keep the house as-is. He really should be focusing on Gabriel’s career. That’s what he wanted. That’s what he desired. </p><p>“There’s this long-lost treasure that’s rumored to be somewhere in Egypt.” He had continued to research even after his mother’s death. The history was so vast and the country so magnificent there were plenty of things to explore if he were to ever go. Not that Gabriel wanted to go to Egypt. He thought it too hot and the food too spicy. The sun would burn Ezra in an instant. Wasn’t he thoughtful?</p><p>“Treasure books are boring. Besides, how can this one be any better than that magnificent discovery of… oh, what was the name?” </p><p>“Tutankhamun.” Ezra had read all about that one and even forced Gabriel to take him to the British Museum when some of the artifacts were put on display. “Yes, that was a magnificent discovery, but this treasure is different. How much do you know about Egyptian gods and goddesses?” </p><p>“Not much, I’m afraid,” Ms. Young admitted. “I was always more of a Norse God kind of girl.” </p><p>“I liked the Aztecs,” Anathema added. </p><p>“I was into the Japanese ones.” </p><p>“Well, Isis is one of their main goddesses. More so than any of the other gods, she was clever, cunning, but also incredibly kind. Rumor has it, after the eventual degradation of her kingdom by Roman forces, in a last-ditch effort to help her people, she created an amulet. It grants the holder one wish, and one wish only.” </p><p>“Why only one wish?” Mrs. Dowling asked. </p><p>“It holds the power of a goddess. You wouldn’t want people to be able to use it all willy-nilly, would you? We can barely keep our politicians with their human powers in-line.” </p><p>The ladies all nodded in agreement. </p><p>“Many have tried to find the amulet and the treasure that’s with it. No one has ever succeeded.” </p><p>“So what makes you so sure you’ll succeed?” Ms. Young asked. </p><p>Ezra stopped. Nothing really. He was never planning on looking for the amulet in the first place. This was just a story, something to write about. Not actually something to do. He would never actually go to Egypt, walk across the desert, and search for a mystical lost amulet. He was far too soft for that. Besides, Gabriel didn’t even like him leaving home by himself. He would never let him go all the way to Egypt. </p><p>“He’s smart. You should see some of the journals he has on the subject. He’s gone too far as to translate pages upon pages of hieroglyphs,” Anathema said, practically beaming. </p><p>“Oh, I’m really not,” he tried to protest, but Anathema was on a roll. </p><p>“And, he said the major problem with current explorations for the amulet is that they’re based on a north-to-south compass reading.” </p><p>“As opposed to?” </p><p>“Well, the Nile runs south to north,” Ezra cut in before he could stop himself. “That’s how the Egyptians oriented themselves. If you want to read maps from the period, you need to think like an ancient Egyptian. Besides, this whole thing was meant not to fall into Roman hands, which means there are some coded layers one has to work through. Most adventurers,” he scoffed at the word. They were barely adventurers and cared more about money than learning about the history or the people of a place. “They forget bits like that. Everything is Euro-centric to them so they don’t shift their world-view to fit the place they’re exploring.”</p><p>“It sounds like you’re more knowledgeable than you give yourself credit for.” Ms. Young smiled at him. Her eyes flickered over his shoulder and her smile dropped. She cleared her throat. “You’re in town for a few days, right, Mr. Fell?” </p><p>“Yes. Three more days to be precise.” </p><p>“And I’m assuming your fiance will be attending that meeting tomorrow?” </p><p>“Yes?” Where was she going with this?</p><p>“Meet me tomorrow at the Ritz, at 2 PM. I’d love to discuss this more with you.” </p><p>Before he could ask for further clarification, he felt an arm snake around his waist. “What are you hens clucking about?” Gabriel asked. </p><p>His smile dropped. He had been having such a good time. It was a shame that-- no, no no! He was happy Gabriel was here. He was happy to spend some time with his fiance. He was happy. </p><p>“Discussing the excellent wine,” Mrs. Dowling cut in. Why was she lying? </p><p>“It really is great. Come on, Ezra. I want to introduce you to some more people.” </p><p>“Right. A pleasure to meet you all. Thank you so much for inviting us, Mrs. Dowling.” He gave them all a slight bow before following after Gabriel, sad the conversation had been cut short. </p><p>Then again, Ms. Young had invited him to tea the following day. He should tell Gabriel about it! He would be delighted to know Ezra had a conversation without embarrassing himself and maybe even managed to swing more quality time with Ms. Young. Her husband, while not super powerful, was still an important man. Surely Gabriel couldn’t be angry about that. </p><p>He opened his mouth to say something. </p><p>He closed his mouth. </p><p>On second thought, he should wait. Gabriel was so protective over him, not wanting him to get hurt in any way. He’d probably object to the meeting; afraid this was all a practical joke by Ms. Young to humiliate him. He would go to tea with her and then tell Gabriel the news. </p><p>Wait, why were they going outside? Didn’t Gabriel want to introduce him to people?</p><p>“Where are we going?” </p><p>There was anger radiating off of Gabriel. How could he have missed it? What had happened to make him so angry?</p><p>They went to the side of the building where there was no one. Inside, people were laughing and jazz was playing. It sounded like fun. </p><p>“I can’t believe you would embarrass me like that,” Gabriel said. </p><p>“Like what? I was having a conversation with our hostess. I thought you’d be happy.” </p><p>“Happy? Happy?” He laughed bitterly. “Ezra, you were an embarrassment. Mrs. Dowling was just too nice to try and get out of the conversation!” </p><p>“She seemed to be having a good time.” The excuse felt weak even to his ears. </p><p>“That’s because you can’t read people like I can. How much have you had to drink tonight?” </p><p>“Just a few sips of wine. I swear.” </p><p>Oh, Gabriel was furious. When he was furious, he tended to get mean. He had never hit Ezra. He had never hurt Ezra. But he was mean. </p><p>“You know how fast you get drunk! I’m surprised you’re still standing.” </p><p>“I feel fine, Gabriel. I’m sorry but Anathema wanted to introduce--”</p><p>“Oh, Anathema, don’t even get me started on her.” </p><p>Ezra winced. She and Gabriel did not have the best relationship. He really hated her. </p><p>“I wasn’t going to stand by the wall--”</p><p>“Are you cheating on me with her?” </p><p>“What?” Sometimes it felt like he could get whiplash from these conversations. Gabriel moved from one topic to the next so fast. It left him unbalanced. Shaky. </p><p>“That is the only reason you’d keep her around when she clearly hates me.” </p><p>“Gabriel, I swear--”</p><p>“You should put me first, Ezra. Me, all the time. I should be the most important person to you.”</p><p>“And you are, I--”</p><p>“Then why is Anathema still in the picture? Why don’t you do what I want you to do?” </p><p>“I’m trying.” </p><p>“I guess we can forget about the promise you made earlier.” </p><p>There were tears in his eyes. He felt sick and shaky and weak. Was this truly what love felt like? Was this truly how he had to live the rest of his life? </p><p>“Come on, let’s get back inside. Don’t you dare embarrass me again.” His grip was tight on his elbow. </p><p>As they passed by the bar, Ms. Young caught his eye and smiled. Ezra couldn’t help it. He smiled back. He could survive the night with a surly Gabriel. After all, he had afternoon tea at the Ritz to look forward to tomorrow.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I love 1920s slang and decided to sprinkle some of it in here. Hopefully this all makes sense to you guys!</p><p>Slang dictionary: <br/>Highbinders: Corrupt politician<br/>Wise head: Smart guy<br/>Pro skirt: Prostitute (usually female but I couldn’t find the male version)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Sometimes, Afternoon Tea is Just what You Need</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Slight trigger warning for body image issues and eating disorders mentions</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ezra stood outside of the Ritz, looking up at the beautiful and impressive building. He had only been here twice. Once, his mother took him to celebrate his acceptance into Cambridge. The second time, Gabriel had proposed to him. </p><p>The first time he had the most scrumptious angel’s food cake. </p><p>The second time, Gabriel thought eating so much was unseemly. </p><p>He took a deep breath and tugged his waistcoat down over his stomach. It was just afternoon tea. With a lady he barely knew. To discuss a book he wasn’t planning on writing. About a topic Gabriel thought was stupid. </p><p>What could go wrong?</p><p>It was 1:59 PM. Should he go inside and see if Ms. Young was already there? He didn’t want to seem too eager. But he couldn’t be late. That wouldn’t do. This wasn’t France. </p><p>“Oh, Ezra, you’re right on time. Perfect!” Ms. Young came up beside him, grinning as she took his arm and steered him inside. </p><p>“Ah, yes. I know you’re probably a busy lady, Ms. Young.” </p><p>“Please, call me Dierdre. Ms. Young is my sister. A schoolmarm. One of those that whack children’s knuckles with rulers.” She laughed and the waiter led them to a small table. </p><p>“Now then, this is a proper English afternoon tea. I do love visiting with Harriet, but she is American. They can never get the treats right.” She plucked a finger sandwich from the tray and took a bite. Her eyes fluttered closed as she savored the food. </p><p>He glanced at the tree of sweets and sandwiches. There was nothing “diet appropriate” for him to eat. He should stick to tea and maybe one finger sandwich. Oh, the petit fours looked amazing, though. And the mini strawberry shortcakes looked absolutely divine. </p><p>“Well, dig in. I’m not paying a fortune for you to eat only with your eyes.” </p><p>“Oh, I’m so sorry, dear lady. I meant no offense. I can pay if you’d like. It is proper for the gentleman to pay for his lady companion, after all.” </p><p>Ms. Young shook her head. “No, the one who is the host should be the one to pay. That’s how it should be. Now then, go on. The angel’s food cake is delightful.” </p><p>Gabriel didn’t have to know. Besides, he hadn’t eaten anything all morning. What was the harm of a few delicate pastries and a nice cup of tea? He dished up.</p><p>“What was the reason for our meeting? I may not have the mind for politics, but I’m sure I can be of some use.” </p><p>She waved a hand at him. “No, no political talks. I hate the subject. Arthur’s already got our daughter thinking she’ll be the first female prime minister. I’ll support her, of course, but it’s a minefield to work through and you never know who’s truly on your side.” </p><p>He nodded, not sure how to respond. The Egypt discussion from last night was sitting at the forefront of his mind. Surely this busy and important woman wouldn’t sit down to have afternoon tea with him because of a silly little folk tale? </p><p>“Your book--” </p><p>It appeared he was incorrect. </p><p>“Tell me more about it?” </p><p>“There isn’t much to tell. Mostly because there is no book.” He chuckled, his heart pounding in his chest. This was unfamiliar territory and he wasn’t sure how to proceed. He wasn’t sure what Ms. Young wanted. </p><p>“Egypt is all the rage now. Egypt-mania is what they’re calling it. Just the other day, I saw a magazine advertising a Tutankhamen over-blouse. Ever since they discovered that tomb, people have been going crazy for the long-lost civilizations. And you seem to know quite a lot about it.” </p><p>“I’ve always wanted to go to Egypt,” Ezra admitted. </p><p>“And you’ve never gone?” </p><p>He shrugged and looked down at his lap, picking at his napkin. “I was supposed to go before University with my mother, but she died before I got the chance. It’s never felt right, going without her.” And Gabriel was adamant about never setting foot on the African continent unless it would help his career.  </p><p>Ms. Young pursed her lips and nodded. “I see.” She pulled out a stack of papers from her satchel and set them on the table. “Mr. Fell, I am a businesswoman and as such, all endeavors and contracts I sign I intend to profit from.” </p><p>“Indeed. You would be a rather foolish woman if that was not your intention.” </p><p>She smiled. “You are a clever one. I see two different versions of the book you could write. Version one is a fictional account of a search for this long-lost amulet. Now, the benefit of this is you would be in complete control. You could make your characters do what you want them to do. You can make them fall in love and out of love. You can control if the ending is happy or sad. You can make the adventure perfect and polished.” </p><p>That did sound nice. “What’s the second option?” </p><p>“You go to Egypt and look for this amulet yourself. This option... it’s messy. You may not get the romance readers crave, the dashing and roguish hero that makes men want to be him and women want to be with him. Or the other way around, depending on your preference. You may not even find the amulet. That would be a disappointment for readers.” </p><p>“So you want me to write the fictional account?” Why was he even entertaining this idea? He was far too busy to think of becoming a full-fledged writer. He barely had time for his novellas, and most of those ended up in notebooks stuffed at the bottom of drawers. </p><p>She paused and took a sip of tea. “I don’t think so. I’ve read your past work. You deal in reality. Granted, it’s romanticized, but they are your experiences.” </p><p>“Wait, what past work? All I have is the piece published in the Tadfield Digest. And that’s hardly a masterpiece, madam.” </p><p>Ms. Young let out a laugh. “Anathema has taken the liberty to send some of your journals for me to read.” </p><p>The traitor! He had given those to her in confidence. What was in there that interested Ms. Young so? Was it the truly riveting piece about the frog in the boys’ water closet? Or perhaps the boring, rambling mess about the dinner party with a German ambassador and his two pugs? </p><p>“They’re definitely written by a young and unpolished writer. You’ve had general training. You know basic school grammar and whatnot, but you’ve had no formal training.” </p><p>He bit his lip and nodded. This was why Gabriel didn’t want him to put his writing out for the world to critique. He never took it well when people said bad things about him. It always felt like personal attacks. </p><p>“However, there is an eye for character and setting that I love. Your pacing is decent, though we can definitely improve it. The tone could use some work, but it’s not a disaster. I think, if you give me the chance, I could whip you into shape and you would become a best-selling novelist.” </p><p>Oh, that did sound nice. His books on store shelves. His books being discussed in newspapers and book clubs. His books and ideas out in the world for all to see. It was such a fantasy, one he never thought possible. There was just one problem. </p><p>“Now hold on a moment, I think we’re forgetting one thing.” </p><p>“What’s that?” </p><p>“Me. I’m not a very interesting character, nor am I built for exotic adventures.” He was soft. Delicate. </p><p>She laughed at that. This meeting was not going as he had hoped. Then again, he wasn’t sure how he wanted this meeting to go. </p><p>“Says who?” </p><p>Gabriel. “Me.” </p><p>“Tell me, Mr. Fell, what type of person is built for exotic adventures?” This woman was relentless. </p><p>“My mother.” The answer was immediate. Even though he never saw her, hair wild, forehead beading with sweat and dirt. Even though he only ever saw her in her more tame state, he had no doubt his mother was the greatest adventurer in the world. </p><p>“And you share her genes, do you not?” </p><p>“Just because I share her genes does not mean I am her.” </p><p>Ms. Young smiled at him. It reminded him so much of his own mother’s smile. It was soft, understanding. It made him feel warm. “That is true. You aren’t her. That doesn’t mean you can’t go on an adventure to Egypt and write an amazing tale.” </p><p>Ezra bit his lip. She clearly was not willing to let this argument go. Then again, neither was he. She was saying all the words he wanted to hear; all the words he was desperate to hear. </p><p>“I don’t know anyone in Egypt. And I’m not sure Gabriel would be for me gallivanting around some foreign country without a guide. I’ve never even seen the desert.”</p><p>“Then I suggest you start planning, Mr. Fell.” She pushed the papers towards him. “Here is a standard contract. Come at me with a book pitch and at least some semblance of a plan so I don’t pay for you to get lost in the Sahara, and then we’ll pop a bottle of champagne and toast to our partnership.” </p><p>He glanced at the contract. It looked dense. </p><p>“Of course, I would also like an idea of the cost.” </p><p>“The cost?” </p><p>“I’ll be paying you an advance. That should help cover travel expenses, guides, tickets, camels, whatever else you need. After I recoup your advance, you’ll have access to your royalties.” </p><p>“And this is just for this one book?” </p><p>“If you would like, it can be a one time contract.” She leaned forward and smiled. “But if you’re as good as I think you are and can sniff out adventure like I think you can, I might just have to snap you up before another house does.” </p><p>He glanced back down at the contract. </p><p>“Think it over, love. I’ll leave you my contact information so when you decide you’re ready, we can get started.” She stood up and squeezed his shoulder. She donned her coat and sauntered out of the restaurant. </p><p>Ezra took another sip of tea. His heart fluttered, but he couldn’t tell if it was from excitement, nerves, or fear. He’d have to have Anathema look over the contract, of course; make sure everything was aboveboard. Then he’d have to figure out an actual travel plan. Madam Tracy probably knew someone in Egypt, though he wasn’t sure where she was currently. He’d have to ask around. Then there was the actual location of the blasted amulet. </p><p>Hold on. What was he thinking? He couldn’t go to Egypt on a wild goose chase! Elections were coming up and Gabriel needed his help. Besides, he had never been to the desert before in his life. He’d die in an instant. This whole thing was ludicrous and Ms.Young was probably messing with him. She was probably some scammer who was looking to take his money. </p><p>He should leave this contract on the table and forget about this whole endeavor. He would go back to the hotel and wait for Gabriel and then he would get back to his normal life. His normal, boring, uneventful life. </p><p>He stood up and put on his suit jacket. It was getting late and Gabriel would be back soon. He should get going. </p><p>He walked out the door and was about a block away before the waiter ran after him. </p><p>“Sir, sir!” he called. </p><p>Ezra had no choice but to turn so as not to make a scene. “Yes, dear boy. What is it?” </p><p>“You forgot these.” Clutched in his hands were the contract and Ms. Young’s contact information. </p><p>“Oh, oh thank you so much. I’d lose my head if it weren’t attached.” He gave the waiter an extra 20 pounds for his trouble and went back to the hotel, thinking of places to hide the contract from Gabriel. </p><p>He’d tell him, eventually. Of course. What kind of fiance kept such a thing hidden? He wanted to make sure, though. It would be better if he came to Gabriel with a solid plan. He couldn’t object if Ezra had information and a plan. He couldn’t. </p><p>He wouldn’t.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Things are kicking into gear now! I am having an absolute blast with writing this fic. I've basically binge-wrote most of the first half in a few days, which is why I'm posting so quickly. I love the setting. I love Aziraphale and Crowley's interactions. I am really enjoying myself and I hope you guys are as well.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Having Friends on Your Side it the Best Way to Get Things Done</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Disclaimer: I don't actually think all Frenchmen and Italian men are great at sex. You can be good at sex no matter where you come from.</p><p>TW: mild fat shaming and gaslighting</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“And then Ms. Young, with her fur coat, sauntered out of the… Blast, that’s not good enough. It’s too forced.” Ezra crumpled up the page and tossed it to the floor. He was still unsure what Ms. Young wanted in terms of a story but figured it would be best to write it all down. He didn’t want to forget anything when it finally came time to publish. </p><p>However, words that usually flowed easily, were stuck. He knew what he wanted to say, what he wanted the audience to feel, but he couldn’t seem to get the words right. </p><p>“This has never been a problem before.” He sighed and put his head on the desk. The past few weeks had been a whirlwind of activity, more than he was used to. </p><p>First, he had to try and pinpoint where the blasted amulet was. After pouring over documents, maps, journal entries, and translating hundreds of hieroglyphics, he had a pretty good idea of where to start looking. He couldn’t say the amulet was certainly in the area. It was a mythical artifact, after all. It might not even exist. But it was a start and would certainly make for an interesting tale. </p><p>He then had to track down Madam Tracy. That was not an easy feat. He didn’t want rumors to spread as to what he was up to, lest they get back to Gabriel and, er, ruin the surprise. So he basically only relied on Anathema for help. Anathema, bless her heart, didn’t ask questions. Though she did smile brightly when he asked. </p><p>As it turned out, Madam Tracy had gotten a beautiful Chalet in the Swiss Mountains. She had been entertaining political representatives, movie stars, poets, artists, and all sorts of interesting people Ezra would have loved to meet for the past few months. </p><p>She was coming to tea today. Gabriel would be out of the house. Ezra had yet to tell him about her little visit and he was hoping to plan it just right so he couldn’t object without seeming like a bad host. </p><p>He knew once he had all the pieces in place, Gabriel would be supportive. But if he played his hand too soon, Gabriel might think him unprepared. Once he was ready to sign the contract with Ms. Young, then he would also tell his fiance and they could all toast to this new endeavor together. Sure, elections were coming up, but Ezra didn’t really need to be here for them. It wasn’t like he was running for office. Besides, having a well-known spouse by his side could only help Gabriel as the people who supported Ezra would also support him. It was a win-win for both of them. Or, at least, that was how he was hoping to pitch the idea to Gabriel. </p><p>“What’s got you looking so perplexed, babe?” Gabriel asked, kissing the top of his head. “You’re too pretty to have to think about challenging things.” </p><p>“Oh, um, well--”</p><p>“Stuttering isn’t very attractive, Ezra.” </p><p>He bit his lip and nodded. “Right.” Heaven forbid he did anything unattractive. He already wasn’t much to look at. No need to make the situation worse. “I received a telegram from Tracy.”</p><p>“Oh?” Gabriel didn’t get along with her very well either. But because of her place in Ezra’s life and the support she gave after his mother died, he was more willing to be civil than he was with Anathema. </p><p>“She’s coming over for tea today.” It came out in one breath as if saying it fast enough would mean Gabriel wouldn’t understand it and blindly agree. </p><p>The air hung heavy with silence. Ezra felt the weight of Gabriel’s annoyance crush him. </p><p>“Did you keep this from me?” His voice was sharp; cold. </p><p>“Not intentionally. I only just got the telegram the other day. And you’ve been so busy with meetings, I kept putting off telling you until it was too late. I’m sorry.” </p><p>He didn’t think it was very fair. Gabriel had people show up unannounced all the time. Ezra, meanwhile, needed to ask for permission to have people over three weeks in advance, sometimes more. </p><p>“Ezra, you know how I feel about that woman.” He spat out the word as if it were a horrid curse sitting bitter in his mouth. If he got too angry, they would get into a shouting match that usually ended with Ezra crying and Gabriel forcing him to spend the night on the couch. He needed to get Gabriel on his side, quickly. </p><p>“She’s been staying in Switzerland the past few months, that’s why I haven’t been in contact.” </p><p>“I don’t care where she’s been staying. You purposefully kept this to me? Is that why you’ve been sneaking around my back so much? Has she been the one helping you set up your affairs.” </p><p>Again with the affairs? No matter what Ezra said to defend himself, Gabriel couldn’t get it out of his head that Ezra was cheating on him. He had never and would never. It was frustrating to constantly have to defend himself. </p><p>“No, Gabriel. I swear, I’m not cheating on you.” Tears of frustration prickled in his eyes. Crying would make things worse. He had to get control over the situation immediately. </p><p>“She’s been holding seances with high-profile politicians.” </p><p>This made Gabriel pause and narrow his eyes. </p><p>“I know you think that sort of this is rubbish, but she’s mentioned some people you want to meet.” </p><p>“Like?”</p><p>“Like the president of France, an Irish ambassador, Prime Minister of Canada, a few Australian parliament members, then there are the businessmen and women from China.” </p><p>“Who knew Tracy was so well connected.” He stroked his chin and looked thoughtful. </p><p>“I was going to ask her if we could attend her next session. It’s not just a seance. They have drinks afterward and everyone talks. This could be a great opportunity for you.” He held his breath, praying Gabriel took the bait. He hadn’t lied. Madam Tracy was very forthcoming with her clients, but that wasn’t why he wanted to talk to her. </p><p>Gabriel smiled at him and kissed his cheek. “I knew you were good for something. Alright, she can come over.” </p><p>He breathed a sigh of relief, thankful Gabriel was allowing his friend over for tea. It had been so long since he socialized with someone outside of a business setting. With Madam Tracy, he felt like he could be himself. He trusted her and loved her company. </p><p>“Sir,” one of the members of staff said, knocking softly on the door, “there is a woman here who says she has a scheduled meeting?” </p><p>“Thank you, bring her into the parlor,” Gabriel said. He offered Ezra his arm. “Let’s go get ourselves an invitation to a seance.” </p><p>He smiled and took his arm, relishing in the touch. Gabriel always was a charmer. Handsome and polite. He was glad their previous argument hadn’t escalated further. It would have been embarrassing for Madam Tracy to walk in on one of their tiffs. </p><p>“Ezra!” She ran up to him, smiling. “You look great.” </p><p>They exchanged cheek kisses. </p><p>“As do you, my dear. Switzerland has been wonderful for you. I love the hair.” </p><p>“Aw, such a flatterer.” She ran her finger through her curly, bobbed hair that was now bright red. It suited her wonderfully. </p><p>“Tracy, great to see you again,” Gabriel said, leaning forward to kiss her cheek. </p><p>Her smile dropped. “Ah, Gabriel. Lost weight?” </p><p>“No, actually.” </p><p>“Yeah, didn’t think so. Coat looks a bit tight.” </p><p>Gabriel frowned but didn’t say anything. </p><p>“Now then,” she took Ezra’s arm and he led her to the sunroom. It was beautiful and sunny outside today, a rare occurrence in the English countryside, especially for this time of year. “Let’s catch up. I’ve been so missing our little chats.”</p><p>Gabriel followed them, hovering an odd distance away. It was like he were afraid to get closer but also didn’t want them to go too far away. Ezra needed him to leave. He couldn’t ask Madam Tracy what he wanted if he was still in the room. </p><p>“Dear, shouldn’t you get going? You’re playing golf with Mr. Dowling today.” </p><p>Gabriel’s smile didn’t meet his eyes. “Right. I guess I’ll leave you two to chat. Nice seeing you again, Tracy.” </p><p>“Mm, yes.” She didn’t look at him as he left the room. </p><p>Ezra breathed a sigh of relief and went to pour the tea. He wouldn’t bring it up right away, just in case Gabriel came back. </p><p>“How was Switzerland?” he asked. </p><p>“Oh, marvelous. The mountain air there is amazing. I’ve never felt younger.” </p><p>“I heard you entertained the President of France with a seance?” </p><p>“Oh, I did more than entertain him with a seance. What they say about French men in bed is absolutely true.” </p><p>“What do they say?” </p><p>“They know how to have sex. Certainly better than any British man I’ve ever been with. This man, oh, there are erogenous zones on my body I didn’t even know existed.” </p><p>He giggled and took a sip of tea. “So you had fun?”</p><p>“My dear, I had to kick him out. I almost threw my back out with him. Pretty sure we caused an avalanche with all that rocking and bed slamming and screaming.” </p><p>“Oh, I miss sex,” Ezra said accidentally. Shit, no one was supposed to know the state of his sex life. It wasn’t proper. </p><p>“Really? Gabriel’s actually managing to keep his hands off of you?” Madam Tracy seemed genuinely shocked by his admission.</p><p>“He’s been busy, and stressed lately.” That was true. It still hurt that they hadn’t been intimate in over three months. </p><p>“The best way to combat stress is with a good fucking.” </p><p>“Madam Tracy!” he gasped. He hoped none of the staff were being nosy busy-bodies and listening in on their conversation. </p><p>“I’m being serious. And you, my dear, I can’t believe he’s left you dry for any length of time.” </p><p>He blushed and looked down at his lap. “I’m nothing to look at.” </p><p>“Please,” she scoffed, “I can find you a man who would worship you. Botticelli would use you as his muse in an instant. I’d introduce you to hoards of Frenchmen who would have you screaming for days. If you’re feeling especially adventurous, I might even throw in an Italian or two.” </p><p>“Why only two Italians?” </p><p>She giggled and leaned in closer. “You have to build up stamina with those men. Can’t take on too much at once.” </p><p>Honestly, this all sounded really nice. Ezra had never been with anyone besides Gabriel. Sure, there had been schoolyard crushes and embarrassing fumbles in the woods behind his house, but Gabriel was his first true love, his first lover, practically his first everything.</p><p>“Thank you for the offer, but I am faithful to my fiance,” he said primly. The accusation from earlier reared its ugly head. The last thing he needed was to have Gabriel overhear Madam Tracy offering to line up a bunch of foreign men to fuck him until he couldn’t walk. </p><p>“Alright, alright. I like seeing you blush, it’s cute.” She winked at him. “So, now that you’re sure your fiance is gone, are you going to tell me why you wanted to meet with me?” </p><p>“I was not waiting for Gabriel to leave!” Damn her and her perceptiveness. </p><p>She stared at him, a small smile on her lips and a knowing look in her eyes. </p><p>He sighed. “I wanted to ask you a question.” </p><p>“Naturally.” </p><p>Oh, she was going to think he was crazy, stupid, and possibly in need of a good lobotomy. This whole thing was ridiculous. This entire idea was a foolish endeavor he should have never entertained in the first place. </p><p>“Do you know of a decent guide who can keep me alive in Egypt?” </p><p>Surprisingly, Madam Tracy did not answer right away. She almost always had something to say and very rarely filtered herself. The fact that she spent several moments staring at Ezra as if he had grown an extra head didn’t bode well. </p><p>“Why do you need a guide in Egypt?” she finally asked. </p><p>He spilled everything to her. The meeting with Ms. Young, the contract, the research he had been doing. He left nothing out. Well, nothing except…</p><p>“And Gabriel is fine with you doing this?” </p><p>“Er, well, he doesn’t really know.” </p><p>“He doesn’t really know?” </p><p>He put his head in his hands and groaned. “I’ve told him nothing. I want to make sure everything is set up before I go. That way he knows I’m taking this seriously and not bumbling around a foreign country like an idiot.”</p><p>She put her hand on his shoulder. “Alright, love, I understand.” </p><p>Somehow, that made everything seem better. He breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. So, do you know someone? You’ve been everywhere and you have friends all over the world. I figured if anyone had a contact, it would be you.” </p><p>She took a sip of tea. “I do know of someone, but I’ve never met him, only heard rumors.” </p><p>“Oh?” This was intriguing and would make a good plot point. Ezra Fell, novice adventurer, going to meet a mystery man in a far-off destination. Would he have to traverse the underworld to find him? Ask for him at some speakeasy? Would the man be burly, big like a mountain? Or small and fox-like, perfect for sneaking and thievery? This was the kind of thing that made him swoon; the romance of mystery. </p><p>“My husband was employed by him for a bit.” </p><p>“I didn’t think Sargent Shadwell ever held down a job,” Ezra said. </p><p>Madam Tracy laughed. “I know, right. I’m not sure what he did for the man. He won’t tell me and only says that it’s ‘top secret’.” </p><p>He leaned forward, eager to hear more. This mysterious man was proving to be a far better character than any he could design. </p><p>“His name is Anthony J. Crowley. Apparently, he knows the Sahara better than any Bedouin that’s ever set foot in it.” </p><p><em> Anthony J. Crowley,</em> such a beautiful name. Lyrical almost. It rolled off the tongue nicely. Ezra pictured a man, tanned by the desert sun, hands calloused from working with camels, legs strong from steadying himself on shifting sand dunes. </p><p>He shivered and felt his cheeks flush with arousal. No, no, no! He was not going to get turned on by a fantasy. It would only set himself for failure when he met the man and he was ugly. </p><p>That and he had a fiance he should be fantasizing about instead. </p><p>“I’ll ask around and see if anyone knows how to actually find him, but don’t get your hopes up, love.” </p><p>The feeling of rough, calloused hands gliding down his thighs and lips chapped by desert wind kissing his neck shattered. “Why ever not?” </p><p>“I hear he’s near impossible to hire. He’s got a bit of a bad attitude and is well known for being rude. If he doesn’t want to work with you, no money in the world will convince him otherwise.” </p><p>His heart sank. “Well, there goes that idea.” He knew this entire idea was stupid. </p><p>“Now hold on a moment. I may not be able to guarantee your employ of Mr. Crowley, but I still have connections. I’ll get you a list of guides so if he doesn’t work out, you’ll have a few more options.” </p><p>“Thank you. I’m truly grateful for your help.” And he was. Without his friends helping him, he never would have gotten this far. As soon as Madam Tracy came back with the list of guides, he’d send his proposal off to Ms. Young. And as soon as Ms. Young came back ready to sign the contract, he’d let Gabriel know. And as soon as Gabriel gave his okay, Ezra would be off. </p><p>Now that he had Madam Tracy on his side, the whole thing was coming together beautifully. Within a few months, he would be on his way, living his dream. Adventure was just around the corner. He could practically taste it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ah, our first little sneak peak at Crowley. Don't worry, he'll show up soon. Then Ezra will see what a real romance is like. I hope all you bearcats and jobbies are ready.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Confrontation and Flames</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I won't post tomorrow so I can respond to comments and hammer out a few more chapters. I'm glad so many people are enjoying this and I hope it gives people something to look forward to in these anxiety-inducing times. </p><p>TW: gaslighting, verbal abuse</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ezra’s hands were shaking as he held the thick envelope in his hands. The letterhead for Ms. Young’s publishing company was neatly printed at the top. She responded. She actually responded. </p><p>He sent her his plan, a few revisions Anathema made to the contract, and a sample chapter. Granted, not much happened in that chapter, it was more of a prologue; a way for her to get a sense of his style as well as give him some feedback so he could improve. It had been so long, he feared she had forgotten. </p><p>What if it was a rejection? </p><p>What if she changed her mind and decided he was not the best person to put her faith (and money) in?</p><p>What if he had done all this work, all this sneaking around, for nothing?</p><p>He swallowed and carefully opened the letter. The papers were thick. Surely this meant good news. She wouldn’t send a bunch of papers to him to tell him no. </p><p>On top was a neatly typed letter. </p><p>
  <em>Dear Mr. Ezra Zachary Fell </em>
</p><p>His heart was pounding in his chest. He kept licking his lips. His hands were sweaty and shaky. He went to throw the entire packet in the fire. To hell with this whole thing! He would never have to read the words of rejection if those words went up in smoke!</p><p>He couldn’t get his hands to let go of the paper. </p><p>He would never have to know what the letter said. And that thought near-about killed him. </p><p>
  <em> Dear Mr. Ezra Zachary Fell, </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Your proposal has been accepted.</em>
</p><p>He let out a whoop. A thousand pounds had been lifted from his chest. His proposal had been accepted. She was going to pay him to write and publish a book and then his work would be read all around the world! Oh, this was the best news he could have ever received. </p><p>
  <em>Please set up a meeting time for our lawyers to meet and negotiate the terms of the contract. We would like you to start your travels by the end of March and return by the end of July. If all goes according to plan, your novel should be published in the November season. Just in time for Christmas readers. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Attached is your sample chapter with a few notes for your consideration. I am very excited to see how this adventure will end. Do you really think the Amulet of Isis exists? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Regards, </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ms. Dierdre Young</em><br/>
Tadfield Press<br/>
London, UK 
</p><p>He had to get a hold of Anathema immediately. March was only a few weeks away and he wanted to get started immediately. He should also get a hold of Madam Tracy and tell her the good news. </p><p>“What do you have there, babe?” Gabriel asked. Elections had gone swimmingly and he had gotten his position with a landslide vote. As a result, he was much calmer than before, much closer to the Gabriel Ezra he had fallen in love with all those years ago. </p><p>“Nothing, some contracts for Anathema.” He should tell Gabriel. He should tell him now. He had everything he needed. All that was left were some lawyer talks and he could be on his way. </p><p>Madame Tracy’s list of potential guides sat neatly folded and tucked away into a notebook he had gotten especially for the trip. He had maps, books, brochures, and pamphlets all ready to go. He was prepared. </p><p>“Make sure she isn’t swindling you,” he said, pouring himself a scotch. “I really wish you’d let my lawyers take over your estate. I don’t trust her. There’s something shifty about her.” </p><p>Ezra slid the packet of papers back into the envelope. “I know you trust your lawyers, but I really do think it’s good of us to have separate people. It ensures we are both treated fairly and one does not hold more power over the other.”</p><p>“So you think I’m the one who’s trying to swindle you out of your money?” Gabriel spat. </p><p>Oh, oh no. Ezra could never find the right things to say. “I didn’t mean that.” </p><p>“You know what, Ezra?” he slammed the scotch glass onto the table. “I think you don’t trust me.” </p><p>“Gabriel, please--”</p><p>“I think you’re just using me to gain status. That’s what this is, isn’t it? You want the prestige of being with a high-profile politician. You don’t actually want to be with me.” </p><p>“You know that’s not true,” he protested. He didn’t know how to defend against these accusations. He didn’t know why Gabriel was even suggesting this. </p><p>“Really? Are you sure about that?” Gabriel was furious now, his face red and veins throbbing in his neck. He normally looked so put together. Here, however, he was unrecognizable. </p><p>“It’s a contract for a book!” Ezra shouted, desperate to get Gabriel to calm down and understand. </p><p>Gabriel stopped shouting. “What?” </p><p>“At the party a few months ago, the one hosted by Mr. and Mrs. Dowling, I met up with Ms. Young who runs the Tadfield Press. She liked what I had to offer and this is a publishing contract. I’m going to be a published author.” </p><p>“Why would you hide this from me?” His voice was steady, even. It terrified Ezra. </p><p>“I didn’t want you to doubt me. I wanted to make sure everything was good to go before I came at you with this. You were so busy with the election, I didn’t want to put this on you as well.” </p><p>Gabriel took a sip of scotch and nodded. </p><p>Ezra held his breath, not daring to speak a word until Gabriel said his piece. He couldn’t tell if he was still angry or not. It frightened him. </p><p>“What’s the book about?” Still so calm, so even. But there was a danger lurking just below the surface. </p><p>Ezra wasn’t sure how to tread. If he said the wrong thing, it could set him off again. That was the last thing he wanted. “It’s about the Amulet of Isis. Ms. Young thinks it’ll make a great adventure story.” </p><p>“Fictional adventure story?” </p><p><em>Say yes. </em> “No. She wants me to actually go to Egypt and see if I can find the amulet.” </p><p>The words were barely out of his mouth before Gabriel cut him off. “Absolutely not.” </p><p>Just like that, his entire world shattered. The hope that had been building up in his mind for so long, the idea that he could actually be someone, was gone with two simple words. </p><p>Gabriel smiled at him, but it felt so cold, so cruel. “Ezra, baby, you’re not built for this kind of thing, we talked about this. Egypt is too dangerous and you’re too gullible. They’d sell you in an instant down there and I couldn’t get you back. Is that what you really want? To be sold into slavery and forced to have sex with strange men for the rest of your life? Which, by the way, won’t be long. Prostitutes aren’t known for having long and fulfilling lives.” </p><p>He bit his lip and forced back tears. “I thought--” his voice wobbled and he spoke barely above a whisper. “I thought if I prepared enough, I could--” He squeezed his eyes shut. </p><p>Gabriel must have gotten up because a finger lifted his chin. He opened his eyes and found himself staring into Gabriel’s cold violet ones. </p><p>“This is why I have so many rules. You think you’re smart, and brave, and strong. You’re not. You’re soft.” </p><p>“I’m soft,” he repeated, feeling more tired than he ever had before. Gabriel was right. Who was he to think of adventuring in some far off destination? He wasn’t like Gabriel. He wasn’t cunning. He couldn’t read people. He wasn’t smart. He wasn’t charismatic. He was Ezra Fell. A bookish type with a history and literature degree he never used. He would have a better time and a better life if he stayed in England with his tea and his books, where the temperature never got above 30C, and the sun was not bright or intense. </p><p>“Exactly. I’m glad I’m finally getting through to you. Do you think I like talking to you this way? Do you think I enjoy it?” </p><p><em>Yes.</em> “No. Of course not.” </p><p>“Exactly. Now, do you want me to write back to Ms. Young and let her know you’re not interested?” </p><p>He looked down at the envelope in his hands. The paper had crinkled; he was holding it so tightly. He took a deep breath and turned to the fire, tossing in the package. Tears really did start to fall then. He watched as the letterhead blackened and the paper disintegrated until you couldn’t tell it had been paper in the first place. </p><p>Gabriel wrapped his arms around him and squeezed him tightly, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I’m proud of you, Ezra. Knowing your limits is hard. Now, why don’t you go and address some invitations for my party? Three weeks should be plenty of time for an RSVP. We have to celebrate my success!” </p><p>Gabriel squeezed him one more time before letting him go and strutting out the room. </p><p>“Of course dear,” Ezra said. He felt hollow, empty. Why did they only ever celebrate Gabriel’s success? Why didn’t they talk about options for Ezra’s publishing contract? Why did he have to smile and pretend like everything was okay when he watched his dreams literally burn before his eyes. </p><p>He sniffed and wiped the tears from his eyes. He had a headache now and his throat was raw. Gabriel was right. He was always right. He was never wrong. He had Ezra’s best interests at heart. He was always right about everything. </p><p>Two weeks later, Ezra received a letter from Anathema. </p><p><em>Contract’s all hammered out.</em> She wrote.</p><p>
  <em>Newt’s got to go down to Cairo to pick up some stuff on Wednesday so if you need a ride-- Hey, it’s faster and cheaper than taking a ferry and then a train and then another ferry or what have you. Looking forward to reading your masterpiece.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Much Love,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Anathema</em>
</p><p>In the envelope was one thousand pounds.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So... sorry about that chapter. We have to break Aziraphale down before we can build him back up again. It's necessary. Don't worry, though, Crowley will be showing up in about three chapters or so. And Gabriel is going away (for the time being) in the next chapter.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Let the Adventure Begin (with a pilot who doesn't seem to know how to fly a plane)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>With everything happening in the US recently, it would be callous of me not to say anything. Sadly, the recent protests are not a surprise to me. Police brutality, particularly against Black and Lantinx communities is far too common for any decent human to be comfortable with. And while the protests are getting the most press coverage, remember, if you are unable to protest physically for any reason, there are still ways you can help. You can donate, sign petitions, read books on how to become Anti-racist, support Black creators and businesses and so much more. Don’t feel guilty if you feel like you could be doing more. It is more important for us to all do what we can instead of fixating on what we can’t. Please, watch out for your mental health, take breaks from the news, and recover when you need to. If all goes according to plan, we’ll come out of this stronger, better, and kinder.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I’m going to the city to pick up our suits,” Ezra said. His heart was pounding in his chest and he felt dizzy. </p><p>“Okay.” Gabriel didn’t even look up from the newspaper. “Be back before noon. The staff needs all hands on deck to set up for the party tonight.” </p><p>“Right. Jolly-good. Tickety-boo.” Why were the words spilling from his mouth? What the hell was ‘tickety-boo’? Oh, Gabriel was going to know for sure something was up. They’d have another argument and Ezra would cave again. </p><p>He looked up from the paper. “Why are you still there? You don’t need my permission to go.” </p><p>“Right, sorry. Is there anything else you need while I’m out?” </p><p>“Focus on getting the suits right, Ezra. You should be able to handle that.” He went back to reading the paper. </p><p>“Right. Goodbye then.” He turned to walk out the door. Was he really going to do it? Was this really happening? </p><p>In the car, he had a small rucksack with a change of clothes, the one thousand pounds, his notebooks, and the pertinent information to find the amulet. In a waterproof case, folded up, was his mother’s map. Gabriel made him take out all the pins, claiming it was unsightly to have so many distorting the art. He felt comforted, knowing it was with him. There was also his old ticket to Egypt in the case. After all these years, he was finally going. He was finally fulfilling his and his mother’s dream. </p><p>“Where to, sir?” the driver asked as they started on the road. </p><p>“The tailor’s, first. Afterward, I want to stop by the wine shop and pick up a bottle for Gabriel.”</p><p>“Right, sir. I’ll have you there in a jiffy. Just sit back and relax.” </p><p>He couldn’t relax. Every muscle in his body was taught and he felt adrenaline rushing even though there was no need for it. He wanted to tell the driver what was really going on. He would pick up the suits and go to the wine shop. But, at the wine shop, he would use the back exit to sneak away and meet up with Anathema and Newt. Then, he would take Newt’s plane to Cairo, spend a few days traipsing around the Sahara, write an epic novel, and return home. </p><p>It would have been easier if the driver could just take him directly to Anathema and Newt’s place, but it was impossible to know who’s side the staff was on. </p><p>Oh, listen to him, talking as if he and Gabriel were at war with one another. Gabriel loved him. Sure, he was overprotective at times, but it was nice to know he cared so much about Ezra and his safety. It was just a bit stifling at times. Hopefully, this silly little uneventful trip would be enough to prove to him, and to the world, that Ezra was not a fragile little boy anymore. He could be strong and useful as well. </p><p>After this trip, Gabriel would finally see him as an equal. And then they could get married in a beautiful wedding that would be the talk of the town. Then they could live out the rest of their lives in wedded bliss with Gabriel as a high-profile politician and Ezra as his faithful spouse who was also a brilliant writer. </p><p>It was perfect. </p><p>-----------------------</p><p>If the driver suspected anything, he didn’t say. He dropped Ezra off at the tailor's. Gabriel’s suit was a muted grey, almost silver. It brought out his eyes beautifully. Ezra’s was black. He hated black and would much prefer to be in creams and browns, but Gabriel thought this looked more polished. He felt bad his fiance spent so much money on a suit he wasn’t going to wear. </p><p>He felt bad he wasn’t going to be at the party. Surely it would be of benefit to Gabriel. He always complained about how Ezra made a fool of himself. If he wasn’t there, he couldn’t be a fool. See, this trip was already improving their lives. </p><p>The wine shop was lovely as always. Ezra would have loved to sit and sip, but his stomach was turning and he needed to get going. He needed to put as much time between himself and the driver as possible. </p><p>“Excuse me?” He grabbed the attention of one of the store managers. </p><p>“How can I help you, Mr. Fell?” </p><p>“I noticed Lady Bethany on the sidewalk cafe across the street. I really don’t have time to be seen by her and catch up. You know how much she likes to gossip.” </p><p>“Of course, Mr. Fell,” the clerk smiled at him. “Perhaps a back exit?” </p><p>“Oh, thank you. Thank you so much.” Relief washed over him. Thankfully, the employees at the wine shop liked him a lot and were willing to look the other way for some of his… antics. </p><p>“Right this way, Mr. Fell.” </p><p>He squeezed the handle of the rucksack and followed the clerk to the backroom. He had only been in here a few minutes, so the driver was probably not suspicious yet. Ezra estimated he had about ten minutes before the driver got antsy and came looking for him. All he needed to do was catch a cab and then he would be free. </p><p>“Thank you again. Have a lovely day.” He waved to the employee and walked slowly and calmly towards the opposite exit of the alley. </p><p>Once he heard the door click shut, he picked up the pace, careful not to run. He wanted to seem like he was in a hurry for a meeting, not like he was running from something. That would only raise suspicion. His heart pounded in his chest. He feared it would burst from his skin. He spotted a cab idling on the side of the road. </p><p>Oh, thank heavens. Everything was working out perfectly. </p><p>Sliding in, he gave the driver the Rendez-Vous point. Goodness, he felt less like he was going to meet friends, and more like he was committing some grave criminal act. </p><p>It was only after the cab started driving that he realized what he was doing. He was leaving the UK without telling his fiance to go to a foreign country his fiance forbade him to go to! What was he thinking? This was madness. He should have the cab driver turn around this instant and go back home where he belonged. He couldn’t go to Egypt! </p><p>He opened his mouth to tell the driver he had made a mistake. </p><p>“Here we are, sir.” He held his hand out for the money. </p><p>“Er, right. Thank you so much.” Aziraphale pressed a note into his hand and slid out of the taxi. </p><p>“Ezra!” Anathema called from a little sidewalk cafe on the opposite side of the street. She smiled and waved at him. </p><p>He waved back timidly. His feet were carrying him towards the cafe as if they had a mind of his own. He should get back in the cab and go back home. He would return the money to Ms. Young, have Gabriel’s lawyers get him out of the contract, and that would be the end of this nonsense. </p><p>“This is my fiance, Newt,” Anathema said, motioning to a young man sitting beside her. </p><p>He was certainly not the type Ezra had pictured. Anathema was a wild and forceful young woman. He thought she would find love with a man who was like that as well. Instead, this young man seemed to be shy, bookish. He had a thin frame and thick glasses that obscured most of his face. His dark hair was messy and Ezra was pretty sure there was a ketchup stain on the collar of his shirt. </p><p>“Pleasure to meet you, Ezra.” They shook hands. It wasn’t that crushing grip Gabriel and all of his political buddies liked to use. It was actually quite nice and Ezra didn’t feel the need to massage the pain from his hand afterward. </p><p>“I almost didn’t think you were going to show,” Anathema said, gathering up a suitcase. </p><p>“Well, here I am.” He didn’t mention his thoughts on the cab ride over. “Are you coming with?” he said, peaking at the suitcase. </p><p>“No, this is for you. I figured you wouldn’t have everything you needed for the trip.” She placed it on the table and clicked it open. </p><p>“Oh, oh Anathema, this is too kind.” He breathed upon seeing the contents. “This is too much. I can’t accept this.” Inside there was a full outfit. A wide-brimmed hat perfect for keeping the sun off him, a pair of Spatz to keep the sand out of his shoes. Soft linen pants and a shirt, which would fare much better in the desert heat. There was also a canteen, some binoculars, a notebook, and a pen.</p><p>“Please,” she scoffed. “You pay me enough. I can afford to get you a cute little outfit for your adventure.” </p><p>“Thank you. Really, I mean it.” Sure, Ms. Young seemed to have faith in him, but it felt nice to see Anathema be so supportive. For the longest time, he felt like he was tackling this endeavor completely alone. </p><p>Anathema squeezed his shoulder. </p><p>“I hate to break this up, but we got to go,” Newt said. </p><p>“Right, of course.” With Anathema’s support now confirmed, Ezra felt more at ease. He was doing the right thing. He was living his life on his terms. He had been supporting Gabriel for so long, it felt nice to finally be doing something for himself. He adjusted his rucksack, grabbed his new suitcase, and followed Newt and Anathema to the car. </p><p>“We should have clear skies for the flight,” Newt said as Anathema drove them out of London and to the landing strip. </p><p>“Have you made this trip before?” he asked.</p><p>“Er, well, I’ve flown the plane before.” That didn’t bode well. “I’ve yet to crash!” That boded even worse. “I’m a little worried about the Mediterranean bit. I haven’t flown over water for that long.” </p><p>“The Mediterranean bit is most of the bit!” Ezra exclaimed. Nevermind. He didn’t need to go to Egypt after all. He needed Anathema to stop the car and take him back home. </p><p>“Here we are,” she said cheerfully as they pulled up to a tarmac dotted with little planes. </p><p>Come to think of it, Ezra had never flown anywhere before. He had never even been in a hot air balloon. The thought of being in that contraption, up in the skies with nothing but a single propellor holding them in the air… Why planes were just glorified metal kites! Who thought it was a good idea to fly these things? Nevertheless with passengers in them! </p><p>“Oh, I just remembered, I have something to do tonight,” Ezra said. </p><p>She grabbed his elbow and yanked him out of the car. “You’ll love it up there. You’ll be like a bird. There’s nothing but sky and wind for miles. It truly feels like you’re close to God.” </p><p>“Then perhaps you should go in my stead, Anathema. You have such vivid descriptions, you’ll make a wonderful writer.” </p><p>Anathema slid the luggage into a small compartment underneath the plane and pulled over a ladder. Newt got out a clipboard and began doing a pre-flight check, turning the propellor, fiddling with the wings, and making notes. </p><p>“Are those good notes or bad notes?” </p><p>She pushed him up on the ladder and he had no choice but to go up lest he fall and squished her. </p><p>“Put this on.” She tossed him up a backpack. </p><p>“What? Why?” </p><p>“If we crash, the parachute will help you survive,” Newt explained, climbing up into the plane. </p><p>“Crash?” </p><p>“And you’ll want to put on these.” He handed him a pair of goggles and a hat. “It gets cold up there.</p><p>“You still haven’t explained the whole ‘crash’ thing!” </p><p>Anathema walked to the front of the plane. The propeller in front of Ezra started spinning. </p><p>“Oh, oh lord. The plane’s moving. Newt! Newt, the plane is moving.” </p><p>Anathema waved to them from the tarmac. “Bye! Have fun! Be safe!” </p><p>Goodness, the plane was loud. The propeller in front of him was spinning faster and faster. They were going faster and faster. Were they going faster than a car? How fast did planes go? </p><p>The plane lurched as it continued down the runways. Trees were starting to blur together. Ezra was being jostled side to side as the wheels started lifting from the ground. </p><p>He was pretty sure he was screaming, though he couldn’t hear himself over the noise. The wind was whipping in his face now. He squeezed his eyes shut. The plane gave a great lurch and he felt himself press back into the seat. </p><p>His nails were biting into his hands and he had a death grip on his rucksack. The wind was getting stronger. The plane was getting shakier. They were going to crash! They were going to crash and die and this was not how Ezra wanted to go! He wasn’t ready to die! Who thought planes were a good idea?</p><p>Then, stillness.</p><p>The plane leveled out and Ezra almost felt as though he were just riding a motorcycle. It was cold up here, and the wind was fierce. </p><p>He opened his eyes. The sky was so blue, it brought tears to his eyes. </p><p>He hazarded a peek over the side of the plane. He could see London below them. They were so high up, it looked like a model and not an actual city with living people and dogs and birds. He thought he could make out some cars moving along the streets. </p><p>“We should have enough fuel that we don’t need to stop,” New shouted over the wind. </p><p>“Great!” He did not want to go through another takeoff. Anathema may have been doing him a favor with a free plane ride, but he was going to stick to boats and trains to get back to London, thank you very much. </p><p>She was right, though. Up here it was beautiful. Everywhere he looked there were sky and clouds extending for miles. Was this how birds felt? Probably not. This was their normal. They probably felt the same way Ezra felt when he walked to shops. Just an ordinary occurrence. </p><p>Man, however, was not born with wings nor with honeycomb bones. Man was grounded. And yet, here he was. He was up with the birds in the sky. He was closer to the stars than any human on the ground was. A cloud was right above them. He reached up to touch it. It didn’t feel like much, certainly not the fluffy pillows he had imagined as a child. Nor sheep's wool nor fairy floss. </p><p>Still, he reached up and touched a cloud. Normally, people had to wait for the fog to roll in to touch clouds but here he was, touching them so casually. </p><p>“Magnificent.” He breathed. His mother, despite all of her adventures, had never flown in a plane before. She would have loved it. </p><p>“Oh, shit,” Newt cursed. </p><p>“Shit? What shit?” One never wanted to hear the words ‘oh shit’ while miles above the Earth. </p><p>“Rough patch of air. Hang on tight.” </p><p>“How can air be rough?” </p><p>Newt didn’t have time to answer his question before the plane jostled and jerked. It was as if they were being pushed by a large animal. Ezra could see none, though. It was just them up here. </p><p>The plane lurched forward and then down. </p><p>Ezra probably started screaming again. What was Newt doing? Was he trying to get them killed? Why was he jostling the plane so much? </p><p>After a few minutes, Ezra started to feel sick. He took back everything he thought. Everything he said. Flying was awful. Birds were awful. Clouds were awful. Stars were awful. He wanted to be back down on solid ground. </p><p>“Hail Mary, full of grace--” It had been so long since he prayed. Was this a good time? He wouldn’t imagine God or Mary would be particularly put out by his reawakened faith, though they might have something to say about him only praying when he was about to die. It felt like the sort of thing that would make the Almighty cross. </p><p>“Hold on. Almost out of it,” New shouted over the wind and the noises the engine was making. </p><p>Ezra didn’t know much about planes, but he did know machines generally didn’t make worrying grinding noises. </p><p>“Hail Mary, full of grace--” He was shouting it now. Perhaps the forcefulness of his words would make God and Mary have pity on him when he burst into flames because of this infernal contraption. </p><p>“I’m sorry, God. Humans should not be in the air. That’s not how you designed them and yet here we are. I promise you, I’ll be a better Christian!” </p><p>“And, there we go,” Newt said, clearly relieved. </p><p>The plane stopped lurching. </p><p>“Hopefully that won’t happen again.” Newt sounded too cheerful for the subject matter. </p><p>Ezra kept his mouth shut. If he opened it, he might vomit. He couldn’t see if there were people below him, but he didn’t want to take the risk. What a way to ruin someone’s day. </p><p>-----------</p><p>The moment his feet touched land, Ezra fell to his knees. “Oh, oh thank the lord. We’re alive.” He rolled to his back, gasping for air, thankful to be on solid ground once more. </p><p>Newt hopped down from the plane. “We made great time! And we didn’t crash and die!” </p><p>“Was that a legitimate concern?” Ezra asked, rolling to his knees and standing up. There was no one on the airstrip this late at night, but he still didn’t want to make a scene. He was English, after all. </p><p>“Yeah. It always is.” Why was Newt so cheerful with that admission? It is not normal to cheerfully admit your infernal contraption is always moments from killing you. </p><p>“Well, I’m glad we made it in one piece, then.” He looked around at their surroundings. It was odd. He was in Egypt and yet, he couldn’t focus on much. He was tired, worn out, sore, in desperate need of a water closet, and hungry. This was his first moment on Egyptian soil. His first Egyptian night. His first experience outside of Europe. </p><p>He should take a deep breath, smell the air, feel the cool breeze on his skin, take in the sights. You know, start painting the picture for his readers. </p><p>He took a deep breath. He started coughing when the smell assaulted his nose. It smelled of petrol and burning rubber. Probably not the best idea to breathe deeply around an airstrip. </p><p>“Let’s see if we can’t find a place to stay for the night.” Newt yawned, clapping Ezra on the shoulder and walking away from the plane. </p><p>Ezra nodded, adjusted his rucksack, and picked up his suitcase. It was colder than he imagined. He knew the desert to be hot and dry. However, now that the sun had disappeared for the evening, it was surprisingly frigid. He shivered, thankful he had his coat to keep at least a bit of the chill off of him. </p><p>He could hear insects in the distance. He wondered what they were. He wondered where they were. They seemed to surround him and yet, he could see nothing in his path. </p><p>There was a small shack at the end of the tarmac with the light on. Newt knocked and opened the door. </p><p>“Hello, ma’am,” he said to a rather bored-looking woman sitting at a desk with a switchboard in front of her.” </p><p>“Name, duration of stay, intentions.” She handed two clipboards to Newt before returning to her book. </p><p>“Thank you very much.” He handed one to Ezra. </p><p>He could answer the name and intentions easily enough, it was the duration of stay he was having trouble with. He didn’t know how long he was to be traveling. He had no concept of desert travel and while the distance on the map didn’t seem too harrowing, it might take him months to actually reach the amulet. Then again, Ms. Young did want him back by July. He put down three months, just to be safe. If he overstayed his welcome he could hop over to Libya and get back that way.</p><p>The woman barely glanced at the clipboards before stamping their passports and shooing them out the door. </p><p>“Usually they have more than one person,” Newt explained. “But since it’s the middle of the night they probably figured no one would show up.” </p><p>“What are we to do now?” It still didn’t feel real, being here, running away from Gabriel. He supposed after a good night’s sleep, the gravity of his situation would hit him. Now he was just looking forward to a bed. Or at the very least something horizontal he could lay on without fear of scorpions. He did not want to go all the way to Egypt just to die from scorpion venom on his first night. </p><p>“There’s a small inn up the road a bit most pilots stay at when they’re passing through. I’ll help get you set up for tomorrow, write up my flight plan, fill out my flight logs, and then we can sleep.” </p><p>Ezra winced. The fact that Newt of all people was helping him get his footing was rather… embarrassing. He was sure Newt was a capable young lad, but it felt like he was having his hand held, even now. Still, he could think of no reason to reject the offer. And it would be foolish to let his pride get the better of him. He would not be ill-prepared for this journey. The more help he had, the better. </p><p>“Thank you, dear boy. Now, what is the plan for tomorrow?” </p><p>“I’ll have to pick up my cargo in the afternoon and refuel and then I’ll be on my way. But I can spend the morning with you if you’d like.” </p><p>“That would be rather lovely. Are you well acquainted with Cairo?” </p><p>“Decently. I know which parts to avoid and where to get a decent cuppa.” </p><p>“Good. All useful information.” </p><p>Now that they were a good distance away from the airstrip, it had gotten considerably darker. Ezra could barely make out Newt’s shape, despite the night sky being gloriously lit by the stars and moon. Still, the faint lights of Cairo in the distance washed them out slightly. The path itself, while clearly maintained, was still rather rough. He was used to walking on sidewalks and well-worn walking trails. Oh, goodness, the fact that a maintained path was giving him grief was not a good sign. Newt was still here, he could always ask to go back. Perhaps his little plane-ride would be enough to satiate Ms. Young’s desire for an adventure book. </p><p>“What are your plans?” Newt asked. </p><p>“Mine?” </p><p>“Yep.” </p><p>“Oh, well, tomorrow I’ll get acquainted with Cairo, perhaps find a hotel for a longer duration. Then perhaps after you leave I’ll try and find Mr. Crowley.” Then, after that, he had no idea what would happen. There were so many variables. </p><p>“Are you sure you don’t want to do that with me? I know I’m not physically intimidating, but you’ve never met this man, right? What if he’s a button man, or grifter or something?” </p><p>Good point. Great point. “Madam Tracy recommended him to me.” Actually, Madam Tracy had heard about him from her husband, who Ezra was ninety percent sure was a grifter himself. </p><p>“If you’re sure. Two people are better than one.” </p><p>“I’d much prefer you spend your time showing me around so I don’t get lost. I can handle Mr. Crowley well enough on my own. Besides, there is more than one guide on my list. One of them has to be legit,” he said, patting the paper tucked securely in his breast pocket. </p><p>He felt off-balance. Even after getting off the plane and getting back to solid ground. It was like he was swimming through molasses. Everything felt strange. His mind felt strange. His body felt strange. He was in a dream, a lucid dream where he had absconded to Africa with a man he barely knew. Any minute now, he’d wake up and the screaming cicadas would be a ghost of a memory. Something made up by his mind to give him some jazz in his day to day life. </p><p>“If you’re sure. I trust you.” New turned down a side road. In the distance, Ezra could hear men laughing and see a boarding house with the lights on. </p><p>“Perhaps you should not,” he murmured, still unconvinced of his abilities. After he had a good night’s sleep, he’d be able to think straight. Once he was able to think straight, he could decide if he wanted to go back with Newt or not.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Button man: hit man<br/>Grifter: Con man</p><p>Guess who we're going to meet next chapter...</p><p>Come say hi on Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/springapreppe</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Enter the Famous Mr. Crowley!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So I just want to start out by saying this chapter was written almost a month ago before the recent events of the past week took place. I fully support the Black Lives Matter movement and urge everyone to at the very least educate themselves on the discrimination and abuse POC face in our society. </p><p>That being said, I am also slapping a MAJOR WARNING on this chapter. It takes place at a fight club and there is a pretty graphic description of the fight that happens. Given everyone's mental state at the moment, the fear and anxiety, the graphic and violent ways protestors have been treated,  I urge you to take your mental health and anxiety levels into consideration before you read this chapter. Not everyone wants to, or can read about violent beatings at the moment and I completely understand. Please stay safe, both physically and emotionally. Thank you so much for your continued support and I hope we can all use this opportunity to better the world and improve the safety of those affected by institutionalized discrimination.</p><p>Other Trigger warnings: Mentions of dog fighting, blood, violence, fighting, drunkenness</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It felt like his real first day in Cairo. Whatever that was last night, it didn’t count. Now was when it counted. It was hot and dry; hotter, and drier than Ezra thought possible. The sun beat down with such intensity he feared he would be cooked if he stayed out for too long. He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt, a wide-brimmed hat, and a pair of pants. It was so hot with his clothes he almost started to strip down. To hell with his English upbringing. One would have to be mad to wear clothes in this weather. Except, Egyptians did wear clothes, a lot of them. They wore long robes and long head coverings. Some even had their faces covered. They wore black and grey clothes. Were they not burning up inside? Didn’t black absorb sunlight or something?</p><p>“This is Cairo proper,” Newt said, leading him through the streets. They had dropped off his luggage at a respectable hotel earlier. All he had on him now was a notebook and a note on the bar at which to find Mr. Crowley. </p><p>“Pretty much everything around here is nice and safe. There are pickpockets, of course. But if you feel fine in London you’ll be fine here.” </p><p>He nodded, trying to take in as much of the sights and sounds as possible. Despite being an African city, it was very similar to London. There were mothers with their children going to and from shops. There were little cafes with outdoor seating. There were young couples clearly infatuated with one another. It made him feel a bit more at ease. These were people, just like him. They were living their lives, just like him. </p><p>“And where are the bad parts of town I should avoid? I’m looking to go on an adventure, not to have my organs sold on the black market.” </p><p>Gabriel’s warning about getting sold into slavery rushed back into his mind. That was the last thing he wanted and it frightened him so to think such a thing could happen. </p><p>“You’ll want to stay away from the Southern part. Other than that it’s pretty nice.” </p><p>“The southern part?” He pulled out Mr. Crowley’s information and reread it to ensure he had it correct. Written as clear as day was <em>Mr. Anthony J. Crowley, Bes’s Bar and Club. Southern part of Cairo. Ask for a cab.</em> “Like, the entire southern part or just specific bits of it?” </p><p>“The entire southern part.” Newt was oblivious to his panic. “This place has really good biscuits. I should pick up a few for Anathema.” </p><p>“Er, right.”</p><p>Newt, bless his heart, was not a good tour guide. He seemed to only know the vaguest of information and had gotten turned around more often than not. At this point, Ezra was convinced he knew more about Cairo than Newt did. Anathema must have really loved him, flaws and all. </p><p>It made him think of his own relationship if he still had one after the stunt he pulled. He never felt good enough for Gabriel. He always felt like he was sprinting, desperately trying to catch up with Gabriel, but never could. It left him dizzy, breathless, and all too often crying on the floor. Did this happen with Newt and Anathema? Was Newt regularly crying because of all the pressure Anathema put on him? Was Anathema the one crying?</p><p>Something about the image of his friend having a similar relationship to his own made anger rise in the pit of his stomach. But why? What was so bad about his relationship? Everyone had their ups and downs. They were just going through a rough patch, that was all. After this trip, Ezra would go back home, they’d talk things out, and they’d find balance. They’d both be happy, once and for all. </p><p>“Is that the time?” Newt asked, looking at his pocket watch. “Shit, sorry, Ezra. I have to go.” </p><p>“No trouble at all, dear boy.” He wanted Newt to stay. Newt may not know anything about Cairo other than where to get the biscuits Anathema liked, but he was at least somewhat familiar. He was safe and Ezra felt more at ease with him around. Once he was gone, he’d be all on his own. Now that he thought about it, he had never truly been on his own. He swallowed down fear. </p><p>“I’m sorry I can’t come with you to meet up with the guides. You’ll be safe, right?” Newt looked at him with such large, puppy-dog eyes. It made Ezra feel ashamed for what he was going to do. </p><p>“Er, yeah. As safe as I can be, in a foreign country meeting strangers.” </p><p>He let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank goodness. Anathema would have my head if I let anything happen to you. Have fun! I’m looking forward to reading your book.” He waved goodbye and hailed a cab. </p><p>Ezra watched the car disappear into the crowded streets. His heart was beating out of his chest. He needed to go find Mr. Crowley. He needed to set off on his journey. He needed to write down everything that had happened today and telegraph Madame Tracy to let her know he was safe. </p><p>He walked across the street to a sidewalk cafe, ordered some tea and biscuits, and sat down, watching the people go by. It felt so strange, being here alone. It was as if his mind half expected Newt to be in the hotel room when he returned; like it didn’t fully understand yet what was happening. Logically, Ezra understood perfectly. He was alone in Cairo about to find a man in a bar in the dangerous part of town. There was no one waiting for him in his hotel room. No one in Cairo knew who he was or what he was doing here. Come to think of it, he wasn’t even sure Gabriel knew where he was. </p><p>“Things change so quickly,” he said to himself. He was procrastinating. He knew he was. He had to get up and get things done. It would be absolutely ludicrous if he were to risk his engagement and his standing in London society to go to Egypt for a day and return with his tail between his legs. </p><p>He drained the remaining amount of tea, took a deep breath, and went to hail a cab. Luckily, one pulled up immediately. </p><p>“Where to, sir?” </p><p>“Do you know where Bes’s Bar and Club is at?” Ezra asked, looking down at the paper. It was ridiculous; he could remember the basic set of instructions Madame Tracy had given him. It was more something to do than anything. </p><p>The driver turned around and looked at him. “Are you sure you want to go there?” Oh, that wasn’t a good sign if the driver himself was trying to talk him out of it. </p><p>“Quite sure. How much for the fare?” </p><p>“There are plenty of bars I could take you to. Very nice bars in very nice parts of town. Much better suited to you, sir.” </p><p>Now Ezra was getting irritated. He bloody well knew there were nice bars in nice parts of town. He didn’t want to go to those bars because Mr. Crowley wasn’t at one of those bars. </p><p>“Look here, good sir,” he said, trying to sound authoritative, “I know quite well where I want to go and I want to go to Bes’s Bar and Club. If you are uncomfortable taking me, then I shall find someone who is willing.” He made to get out of the cab. </p><p>“Wait, wait, wait,” the driver said. “I’ll take you if you’re sure. It’s in a very rough part of town, though. Lots of bad people.” He pulled into the road and started driving. “I don’t know why you want to go there. Nothing good ever comes out of that club. Even their beer isn’t worth the risk.” </p><p>Ezra swallowed. He should have brought a gun with him. Or perhaps a knife. He didn’t think ruffians would be convinced not to fight with his books and journals. At least he had the sense to hide most of his advance in the hotel room so if he was mugged, he wouldn’t lose a lot. </p><p>“How long are you staying in Cairo?” </p><p>“Probably not much longer. I need to go somewhere else quickly.” He felt oddly protective over his final destination. He had never had a problem sharing his interest in the Amulet of Isis before. Now that he was writing a book, though, he wanted to keep it a secret. He didn’t even know if the cab driver wanted to read something like his book. And this man probably wouldn’t hire a guide to go looking. But it was the mystery of everything. Not even Ezra knew how this tale was going to end. If he gave away too much now, it would all be for nothing. </p><p>He had a fantasy of this cab driver, bored one day, and looking for entertainment, picking up his novel. As he would read, he would get to this part and realize who he had been driving. He’d then read the rest in one sitting, desperate to know why Ezra wanted to go to Bes’s Bar and Club of all places. The thought made him smile. </p><p>“You should spend some time in Cairo. Lots of fun places to see. The pyramids, the city museum, so much to do. My cousin runs a dinner cruise down the Nile. It’s a lot of fun.” </p><p>“I’m sure it is, good sir, but I have business that must be attended to. Perhaps next time I can enjoy the city a bit more,” he said. If there was a next time. Given everyone’s trepidation about the Southern part, he might as well be walking into his own grave. </p><p>They made small talk for the rest of the trip. Ezra used it as a distraction. The closer they got to the destination, the less it looked like a vibrant and bustling city and more like a war zone. Ezra was pretty sure he heard gunshots and screams at some point. </p><p>The cab pulled to a stop in front of a truly horrific and disgusting building. </p><p>“Is this, er, is this the place?” Ezra asked. </p><p>“Yes sir. You see the sign there.” </p><p>He did see the sign. </p><p>“And, er, you’re sure there is no other Bes’s Bar and Club in the southern part of Cairo?” </p><p>“Sir, there is no other Bes’s Bar and Club in any part of Cairo.”</p><p>There was a lot of shouting coming from inside the building. There was a man on the side of the road who may have been dead, or drunk. Ezra didn’t want to find out. </p><p>“Are you sure you don’t want me to take you somewhere else?” </p><p>He squared his shoulder and opened the door. “No. Thank you for taking me here. You were a lovely conversation partner.” He handed the driver the money. The door barely closed before the man sped off, no doubt to get to a much safer part of the city. </p><p>“Right, Ezra, just find Mr. Crowley, give him your proposition, and then get going.” Oh, maybe he should have looked into those other guides first. Damn him for wanting the best of the best! It appeared as though the best of the best hung around some rather unsavory characters. </p><p>He noticed a man on a set of stairs watching him. He should probably get inside before he was mugged out here and left for dead. </p><p>He marched up to the door of the building, confidence fleeing his body with every step. </p><p>Inside was dark with thick smoke hanging in the air. People seemed to be all gathered around in a circle, shouting and clambering over one another. Oh, oh god, did he stumble his way into a dogfighting ring? He couldn’t bear the thought of watching those poor animals being forced to fight. He swallowed and looked around. There was a man behind a bar wiping down dingy-looking glasses. If anything, his attempts to clean them were making them dirtier. That was quite a feat. </p><p>“Um, excuse me?” Ezra shouted over the noise. </p><p>The bartender growled. He took that to mean he was listening. </p><p>“Yes, hello, I was wondering if you know a Mr. Crowley? I’ve been told he frequents here.” </p><p>“You want Crowley?” How was it possible to growl a sentence? Was this man part dog?</p><p>“Yes, do you know him?” </p><p>“Five pounds.” </p><p>Ezra was taken aback. Was this man asking for money to give him information? That seemed rather ridiculous. It was a simple yes or no question. Still, it would be useful to have this man give him information. Perhaps Mr. Crowley was not here tonight. Perhaps he would give him Ezra’s information so they could get in contact some other time. </p><p>He handed over the five pounds. Hopefully, he would have enough for a taxi to get back to his hotel. He didn’t fancy trying to walk all the way back there. </p><p>“Two minutes. Seat’s free over there.” The man jerked his head towards a table that seemed to overlook where the people had been gathered and were shouting loudly. </p><p>“Ah, thank you so much.” Ezra briefly wondered if he should order a drink. It was only polite to partake in the offerings of the establishment he was currently in. </p><p>The bartender spat into the glass he was cleaning, rubbed it around with a dirty towel, and then set it next to a stack of other glasses that probably got the same treatment. </p><p>Ezra went over to the table. He gave the man five pounds. That should cover his obligations as a guest. </p><p>Two minutes, then he would meet the man. Whether this worked out or not, this would make a great chapter in his book. Meeting the mysterious Mr. Crowley for the first time. Would he be tall, dark, and handsome? Would he be short and blond? Would he be handsome? Would he be beautiful? Would he want to even talk to Ezra? He shivered in anticipation. </p><p>“Ladiezzz and Gentlemen!” A voice boomed out over the crowd. </p><p>Ezra looked down to see a short person standing in the middle of the ring. From this angle, it was hard to determine if they were male or female, but they did have black hair and were wearing rather nice clothes. </p><p>“Tonight, our prizzze fight is between two of our reigning championzzz!” </p><p>The crowd let out a roar. Oh, please no dogfighting. Please no dogfighting. </p><p>“In this corner, we have the lady of the water, the lord of the files, the great fish queen herself, Dagon!” </p><p>Some of the crowd went wild while the others booed. Out walked a tall woman with her thick hair braided. She smiled and pumped her fists in the air. Ezra could swear she had sharp teeth, like fangs. </p><p>The bartender who Ezra had given his five pounds to came up to the person and whispered something in their ear. They nodded. </p><p>“I hope everyone here has placed their bets because betting for this fight is now closed.” </p><p>Wait a minute… did Ezra--</p><p>“Now, in this corner, we have the Serpent of the Sands, the Snake of Cairo, the Originator of Sin, Crowley!” </p><p>“Unbelievable!” Ezra gasped, realizing that the bartender had never intended to introduce him to Crowley. Instead, he thought Ezra was betting on him in a fight! He didn’t know how he felt about this turn of events. </p><p>Crowley jumped into the ring, fists also pumping in the air. </p><p>“Oh,” Ezra breathed as he took in the form of the man. He was lean, but there were definitely muscles on his body. He had the brightest red hair Ezra had ever seen. His face was sharp and angular. He seemed to be around the same age as him. He was wearing sunglasses, though. Odd, considering he was about to fight. He wondered what those eyes looked like underneath those glasses. </p><p>“Oh, he’s handsome.” He was more than handsome, there was a grace to the way he moved. He seemed confident, rough, refined, and a million other descriptive words that were currently floating out of Ezra’s head as he continued to stare at the man’s profile. </p><p>“Fight!” the announcer said, leaping out of the way as Crowley and Dagon began to rain blows on other another. </p><p>Gabriel had taken him to a boxing match once. This was no boxing match. For one, there was a lot more kicking than Ezra thought was allowed in boxing. He was also pretty sure boxing matches were separated by gender. At least Dagon had the decency not to kick Crowley in the crotch. It would be a very short fight if that were the case. </p><p>Crowley landed several blows on Dagon’s face, probably smashing her nose and causing her to stumble back. The crowd was going wild, screaming and cheering and jeering as the two fighters beat on each other. </p><p>Ezra winced when Dagon landed a particularly harsh blow to Crowley’s head. He didn’t want the man to get a head injury. It would make him less capable to lead him through the desert. </p><p>Crowley landed a punch in the gut that sent Dagon sprawling to the floor. Dagon didn’t let that get her down and used her position to sweep Crowley’s feet out from underneath him. She got on top of him and pinned him down, punching his face over and over again. Crowley grabbed her braid and yanked her head back. He leaped onto her and pinned her to the ground. Ezra squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to see any more. Except, he had to know how it ended. He had to know everything. He couldn’t look away. </p><p>Dagon reached behind her and, in an impressive move that should not have been physically possible, she grabbed Crowley’s shoulders and threw him over his head. He went rolling into the opposite wall and she wasted no time once more leaping onto him and punching him. Chest, stomach, thighs, face, nowhere was off-limits for her. </p><p>Crowley attempted a few weak attacks, but Dagon had clearly gained the upper hand. The fight was hers. There was nothing Crowley could do. </p><p>The announcer leaped into the ring and pulled Dagon off of Crowley. </p><p>“Ten,” </p><p>Ezra bit his lip. </p><p>“Nine.” </p><p>He leaned forward. </p><p>“Eight.” </p><p>He knew people were still screaming. He could see the energy all around him, but he could hear nothing. </p><p>“Seven.” </p><p>He wanted Crowley to get up. He wanted him to succeed. </p><p>“Six.” </p><p>Crowley did attempt to roll over to his knees. </p><p>“Five.” </p><p>But he couldn’t manage to push himself back up. </p><p>“Four.” </p><p>The fight was over. </p><p>“Three.” </p><p>Crowley looked up at Dagon. </p><p>“Two.” </p><p>Ezra held his breath, desperate to see how this would end. </p><p>“One.” </p><p>Crowley spat blood in Dagon’s face. She let out a sound of disgust but simply looked down at him as he collapsed down to the ground once more. </p><p>“Winner is Dagon!” The announcer held up Dagon’s hand to the cheers of the crowd. </p><p>“Well, I guess I just lost five pounds,” Ezra said. </p><p>Crowley pushed himself up to his feet and stumbled out of the ring. He should probably go find the man. There was no reason to come all this way, watch what was probably an illegal fighting ring, and then call it a night. It was barely five o’clock. </p><p>He squared his shoulders once more, took a deep breath, and went to find Mr. Crowley. He was, after all, in desperate need of a guide.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next time, our two heroes actually meet. Will sparks fly? Or will barbed words be said instead? Find out on Wednesday!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. First Meetings and Impressions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW: Blood, injuries, mentions of fights, homelessness</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The back where Mr. Crowley had stumbled off to appeared to be another place to drink. Though it was much quieter here than out on the main fighting floor. Or it was quieter until Ezra heard shouting from the other end of the room. </p><p>“You were supposed to throw the fight, you absolute shit-head!” the announcer snarled. </p><p>“I did throw the fight. Had to make it believable though.” </p><p>Ezra peered around the corner to see Mr. Crowley, face still bloody from the fight, sitting in a chair while the announcer seethed with anger. </p><p>“You broke Dagon’s nose!” </p><p>“People would have gotten suspicious if I had gone down too easily. They’ve seen me fight before.” Despite being shouted at, Mr. Crowley looked remarkably relaxed. He was slumped back in the chair, on arm casually tossed over the back of it. His tone was one of boredom. This either happened a lot, or Mr. Crowley had thicker skin than Ezra. </p><p>“I’m not giving you your full cut then,” the announcer spat. </p><p>This got Mr. Crowley’s attention as he sat up. “Now wait one second. I threw the fight, just like you wanted. What’s the harm in putting on a little show? The people want to see blood so why is it so bad I gave them some?”</p><p>“The harm is that you need to do what you’re told, Crowley. You better shape up or else good luck finding another club that will take you in.” They threw some money on the table and stormed off. </p><p>Mr. Crowley picked it up and grimaced. </p><p>Now would probably be a very bad time to go talk to the man. Ezra looked around and sighed. Given what he had just witnessed, there was probably never a good time to go talk to the man. Unless…</p><p>He didn’t have to talk to Mr. Crowley at all. He still had his list of potential guides. He could find one that wasn’t a fighter in an illegal fight club. He could find one respectable, and polite, and who actually did guide-work for a living. </p><p>He looked back at Mr. Crowley, with the blood still dripping down his face and dirt smeared on his body. No, he wanted Mr. Crowley. He wanted to see him in action. The fight was ferocious and violent. The man in front of him had clearly been through a lot and if anyone could get Ezra out on the other side of this whole thing, it would be him. </p><p>Besides, it didn’t hurt that the man was nice to look at. </p><p>Not that Ezra was looking! He had a fiance after all. And Gabriel was so-very handsome. In a traditional sort of way. Mr. Crowley on the other hand...</p><p>Nope, he was not looking at Mr. Crowley. </p><p>He gathered his courage and marched up to the table. “Excuse me, Mr. Crowley?” </p><p>“I don’t do autographs so just fuck off.” He took a sip of what Ezra assumed was alcohol. </p><p>How rude! Then again, he wasn’t sure what he expected. He decided to push the conversation forward. “Oh, no, I don’t want an autograph.” </p><p>He grabbed a chair and sat across from Mr. Crowley. </p><p>“Fucking hell.” Mr. Crowley grimaced. He too seemed to have some rather sharp incisors, almost like fangs. </p><p>“No need to curse. Now then, I heard that you’re the best guide when it comes to traversing the Sahara?” </p><p>“Yeah, I am. But I’m not going to help you so fuck off.” </p><p>Ezra scowled. This was proving to be immensely more difficult than he had hoped. If Mr. Crowley thought cursing at him was going to make him give up, he was wrong. If anything, it was making Ezra want him more and more. </p><p>“I was referred to you by a mutual friend.” Could he even call Shadwell a friend? He had only met the man a handful of times and even Madame Tracy seemed content to leave him at home and away from her life of parties, sex, and seances. </p><p>“Oh really? What friend?” Mr. Crowley smiled, flashing those sharp fangs that made Ezra shiver. What would it feel like to have those fangs pressing into his skin while Mr. Crowley f--- No! He had to stay focused. </p><p>He also had to stay faithful. </p><p>“Sargent Shadwell, he used to work for you?” Not that anyone who had ever spent any amount of time with Sargent Shadwell would forget him. </p><p>“Oh, Sargent Shadwell.” The tone was so pleasant; it sent warning bells blaring in Ezra’s head. </p><p>Mr. Crowley’s smile dropped. “Using Sargent Shadwell as a sales pitch is probably the worst idea you’ve had today. Fuck off.” </p><p>Ezra opened his mouth, ready to continue the argument when a hand landed heavily on his shoulder. </p><p>He looked up and was face to face with a tall man. He had blonde hair, though it looked like a wig, black eyes, and his skin was covered in warts or boils or something. He was rather horrific to look at. </p><p>“I hear you need a guide.” </p><p>“Fuck, Hastur,” Mr. Crowley growled. </p><p>“What’s got your knickers in a twist, Crawly, you don’t want him.” </p><p>Where had the name Crawly come from? He couldn’t have heard the man called Hastur correctly. </p><p>“We know the Sahara.” He continued. </p><p>“We?” </p><p>“Yeah,” said a voice over his other shoulder.</p><p>Ezra turned to see a dark-skinned man with an iguana in his hands. </p><p>“I’m Hastur, this is Ligur.” </p><p>Both men pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. </p><p>“Oh, come on you guys! I’m trying to wallow here,” Mr. Crowley said. </p><p>Hastur paid him no mind. More warning bells were going off in his head. These two were dangerous. He should get out of here and quickly. But he had to stay calm. He couldn’t provoke them or poke the bear so to speak. He would be polite and then make up some excuse and get away from here. He had had far too much adventure for one day, thank you very much. </p><p>“Where is it you want to go?” Ligur asked. His voice rough and his eyes piercing through Ezra. </p><p>“Um, well, I’m looking for something.” </p><p>“Really?” Hastur’s breath smelled smoke and bits of rotting meat. He lit a cigarette and blew the smoke into Ezra’s face. </p><p>Ezra tried his best not to cough. He was never much a fan of smoking. It left an odd taste in his mouth that ruined his enjoyment of food. </p><p>“Seriously, guys. I’m not in the mood. Take your mark and get out of here.” </p><p>“Whacha looking for?” Hastur leaned in. </p><p>Ezra leaned back to regain some personal space, only to back into Ligur. He had to get out of here. His mind was racing with some sort of excuse but he was coming up blank.</p><p>“The Amulet of Isis.” He couldn’t help but tell the truth. He was so terrified it was the only thing that would come out. </p><p>“You two, out,” Crowley said. </p><p>“You said you didn’t want him.” Ligur’s breath was in his ear. He somehow managed to smell like pond scum of all things. </p><p>“I changed my mind. Now back off.” </p><p>Hastur growled and stood up abruptly. Crowley wasn’t far behind. Ezra stayed sitting, his body refusing to move. Apparently, when faced with a situation that required fight or flight, Ezra’s body decided to do something completely different: freeze. A fat lot of good that was doing for him now. </p><p>“You’re outmatched,” Ligur said. He was grinning. </p><p>“Not really.” Crowley pulled out a gun. Ezra’s heart stopped. He never liked guns. He agreed with Gabriel that they could be useful, particularly when lending weight to a moral argument. However, he felt the entire world would be better if there were fewer guns. </p><p>Hastur and Ligur both paled. </p><p>“You ain’t supposed to have that here,” Hastur said, inching away from the table.</p><p>“Oh, boohoo, go cry about it with Bee. Now leave us alone.” </p><p>Ligur shook his head. “You’re a bastard, Crowley. I can’t wait to spit on your grave.” </p><p>“Yeah, get in line.” </p><p>The two men scampered off, though it wasn’t until Crowley put the gun away that Ezra felt himself relax. </p><p>“Shit, come on. We’ll talk somewhere else.” Crowley grabbed his arm and yanked him out of his seat. </p><p>“Now, hold on a moment, why can’t we talk here?” He attempted to wrench his arm out of Crowley’s grip, but the man held strong. Great, instead of getting mugged by Hastur and Ligur, he was getting kidnapped by Crowley. This day couldn’t get any worse. </p><p>“You are dressed like some aristocrat and speaking like one too. Half the people in this place have you marked for a nice mugging the moment you step outside.” Crowley growled, leading him out the door. Sure enough, several men and women were loitering around the outside of the bar. As soon as they saw Crowley, they scattered. </p><p>That made Ezra even more fearful. “Well, I don’t see why they would think to mug me. I’m nothing special and I’m certainly not an aristocrat.” </p><p>Crowley stopped and stared at him. “Really? Really? You really came to this part of town dressed like that and didn’t think you’d get into trouble?” </p><p>Ezra glanced down at his outfit. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing.” </p><p>“Alright, that’s it. I’m getting you a cab and I’m taking you back to Cairo proper. Seriously, we haven’t even gotten to the desert yet and I already feel like you’re about ten seconds away from death.”</p><p>Ezra perked up. “So you’ll take me on as a client?” </p><p>“That’s what you took away from that conversation!” Crowley sighed and hailed a taxi. “Yes, alright. I’ll take you to the amulet.” </p><p>“What made you change your mind?” He doubted it was out of any altruistic motives that had Mr. Crowley do an about-face. </p><p>“It’s the amulet. I’ve gone on a few expeditions to see if I could find it.” </p><p>“Right. You won’t be getting it if we do find it. I intend to give it back to the Egyptian government.” It was the right thing to do since it was of cultural significance. Ezra really only needed it for a good story. </p><p>“Really think giving it to a bunch of politicians is a good idea?” </p><p>“I’m certainly not going to keep it for myself,” Ezra scowled and crossed his arms as Crowley gave directions to the cab driver. </p><p>The driver glanced back at Ezra and then at Crowley, sighed, and took off back to Cairo proper. Was everyone in this part of town looking to mug him? Was Crowley really the only reason he was still walking around with his clothes on his back? Goodness, this wasn’t like London at all. Then again, maybe he blended in a bit better in London. </p><p>“Should we discuss terms and conditions? You don’t even know where I want you to take me.” Ezra wondered if he should invite Mr. Crowley out to dinner, maybe get to know him a little better. Yes, they got off on the wrong foot, but if they were going to spend the next few weeks together then they needed to learn to get along. And what better way to do that than with a nice, scrumptious meal. </p><p>“Er, no. I’m fine. We’ll talk about that tomorrow.” </p><p>“But it’s barely even four PM. Surely you aren’t so busy you can’t spare a spot of tea.” </p><p>Crowley sighed and pinched his brow. “Look, angel--”</p><p>Angel?</p><p>“I just got punched in the face and gut fifty times. I’m sore, I’m tired. I kind of just want to go to bed and sleep off this concussion. I don’t want to deal with this today.” </p><p>Oh, Ezra hadn’t thought of that. Looking at Mr. Crowley now, he did seem very much worse for wear. He really did need to get those cuts looked at.</p><p>“Why don’t we stop by a hospital and drop you off.” </p><p>Crowley shook his head. “No. No hospitals. I can deal with this on my own.” </p><p>“Just because you can deal with something on your own, doesn’t mean you should.” He bit his lip. Oh, he was going to regret offering, but Mr. Crowley looked so pathetic slumped over in the cab seat. Besides, unlike Hastur and Ligur, Ezra wasn’t getting a bad feeling from him. Even though he barely knew the man, he knew he could trust him. </p><p>“Listen, I have some first aid training. How about I patch you up before sending you on your way. As a thank you for your help today.” </p><p>“Really? You’d really let a strange man you picked up in the bad part of town into your hotel room?” He slid closer to Ezra and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Aren’t you afraid of what I might do to you?” </p><p>Oh, he was handsome. And his eyes, Ezra couldn’t see them clearly, but they did appear to be golden from behind the glasses, like pools of warm honey. And his cheekbones, good lord they were marvelous. He wanted to reach up and touch this man's face, feel his lips moving against his own, feel the warmth of his body pressed up against him. Feel his c---</p><p>Gabriel really was an excellent specimen of a man to look at. He also had a very nice jawline and very lovely features. That was one of the many reasons he was such a desirable fiance. </p><p>“I’m more afraid you’ll keel over in the middle of the Sahara and leave me stranded with no way home,” Ezra said. He squeezed his legs together, hoping Mr. Crowley did not notice. </p><p>If he did, he didn’t say anything and simply slid back towards his side of the taxi. </p><p>“Alright then. I won’t rob you. I have better things to do with my life. </p><p>When they arrived at the hotel, Ezra couldn’t help but feel a tad embarrassed. He wasn’t sure what Mr. Crowley’s financial situation looked like, but he could imagine it wasn’t great if he was forced to fight in that god-awful bar. He didn’t want to give the impression that he was a spoiled rich kid looking for a good time. He was a serious writer who was taking this entire thing… er, seriously. </p><p>“Right this way,” he said, leading Mr. Crowley through the lobby. Thank heavens the front desk clerk was busy checking someone else in. He did not want to be that guest that brought a strange, bloody man back to his room. </p><p>“Nice place you got here. Been in Cairo long,” Mr. Crowley asked, looking around the room. </p><p>“No, I arrived only last night.” Ezra dug around his suitcase looking for his first aid kit. </p><p>“And you know first aid because?” </p><p>“Sit there, on the chair,” Ezra directed, laying out his instruments. </p><p>“You’re not answering my question.” Mr. Crowley teased. </p><p>“If you must know, I was training to become a doctor for a while. I thought it would be nice to go to places where they have no medical access and help them out.” He was embarrassed to admit this. It was always a sore spot for him, not being tough enough to stick out medical school. Madame Tracy supported his decision to switch to history as his field of study, but he never could shake the feeling that he had chosen a more selfish path. Who decided that learning about history was a better use of one’s time and the world’s time than a doctor?</p><p>“And you’re not a doctor because?” Mr. Crowley drawled. Just for that, Ezra didn’t warn him before putting on the rubbing alcohol. “Shit, that fucking hurts! What are you doing?” He jerked his head back. </p><p>“Disinfecting it. You don’t want to get an infection.” </p><p>“Maybe I do if this is the alternative.” </p><p>“Hush, you’re acting like a child.” </p><p>“You’re making it hurt more on purpose.” Goodness, he really did sound like a child. The cool and calculated man he had met in the bar was replaced by one that was actually pouting. </p><p>“Next time maybe you’ll throw the fight like you’re supposed to so you won’t get as injured.” </p><p>Mr. Crowley winced, this time it was not because of the alcohol. “Heard about that, did you?” </p><p>He nodded. He shouldn’t press. He wanted his privacy and he was sure Mr. Crowley would expect the same. This was a business transaction and nothing more. They weren’t friends. They were never going to become friends. They were just business partners, barely. Ezra still wasn’t sure if Mr. Crowley really was going to help him. </p><p>“Ah, Bee is just pissed because Dagon’s not gonna want to go down on them tonight. They’ll get over it the next time they need me to fight. Are you done yet?” </p><p>“Not yet. Take off your shirt.” </p><p>“My goodness, angel,” Mr. Crowley’s voice was saccharine. “Moving a bit fast, aren’t we?” </p><p>Ezra blushed and turned to his kit to get out the salve. “It’s for the bruises and to make sure you don’t have any broken ribs. Now come on, off with the shirt.” </p><p>Crowley snorted but took off his shirt. Up close, he really had a nice body. It was lean, but you could tell there were muscles under the skin. It was vastly different from Ezra’s own form. He felt ashamed. Here in front of him was a beautiful, strong, lean man. This was what Gabriel wanted. Not some dumpy little thing like himself. Crowley was angular, lean, athletic. He was physical and you could tell with every line, every bit of definition. Ezra held none of that. He pushed the thoughts out of his mind and focused on the task at hand. </p><p>Mr. Crowley hissed when Ezra pressed down on a particularly nasty bruise. </p><p>“It’s not broken. You’re lucky,” he said, rubbing on the salve. “You really must be more careful, dear. This is the only body you’re going to get. There are no replacement parts.” </p><p>“Right.” Mr. Crowley put back on his shirt. “Well, thanks, angel. I do feel better already.” </p><p>Ezra smiled. “I’m glad. Now, what time would you like to meet up tomorrow?” </p><p>“Nine. At that cafe that’s right across the street.” </p><p>Ezra walked Mr. Crowley to the door. “Well then, thank you again for at least agreeing to hear me out. I hope this will be a pleasant partnership for both of us.” </p><p>Crowley smiled a genuine smile. It was soft and friendly. It made Ezra’s insides flutter. </p><p>“You really are a proper English gentleman.” </p><p>He stuttered, trying to decide if he needed to defend himself or not. Before he could make up his mind, Mr. Crowley spoke once more. </p><p>“I think a proper English gentleman would have at least given his employee a name.” </p><p>“Oh! Goodness me, I’m terribly sorry.” Thoughts of defending his propriety were pushed from his mind. He couldn’t believe he had spent nearly an hour with Mr. Crowley and had yet to introduce himself. “I’m Ezra Fell.” He held out his hand. </p><p>Crowley smirked and shook it. “Anthony Crowley. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, angel.” </p><p>He shivered at the nickname, but he didn’t correct Crowley. He kind of liked it. Was that bad? </p><p>“Pleasure is all mine,” he said, mostly because he didn’t dare voice his actual thoughts. </p><p>Mr. Crowley dropped his hand and waved goodbye as he made his way down the hall. Once he was out of sight, Ezra closed the door and rushed to the desk, desperate to write down everything before the day's events left his mind.</p><p>------</p><p>Crowley curled up tighter, trying to keep in some of the heat from his body. He knew it was a useless endeavor at night, but a small part of him was hopeful. He wished that part would just die. </p><p>The money he had gotten from the fight earlier in the day was under him, hopefully, safe from anyone looking to score a quick buck. Not that people bothered him. They usually left him alone, even when he was sleeping. Being intimidating had its upsides. </p><p>Still, he couldn’t get the man out of his head. </p><p><em>Ezra Fell</em>. He was beautiful. When Crowley had first laid eyes on him, he actually thought he was looking at an angel. Then again, that could have been the concussion talking. </p><p>He thought Ezra was attracted to him, at least, that was the vibe he was giving off. But something was holding the man back. Perhaps he was trying to be professional and thought a physical relationship would cross the line? Crowley would never force his boundaries, but he might tease a bit, see if Ezra loosened up at all. </p><p>Then there was the question of the amulet. He had gone looking for that blasted thing for nearly five years and hadn’t found it. Every lead was exhausted, everyone he could talk to he did talk to. He didn’t dare hope that Ezra would be the one to find it. And yet, the stupid voice in his head, the one that refused to die, it still had hope. </p><p>
  <em>Don’t hope for anything. You’ll just be disappointed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But there is something different about him. I can sense it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>That doesn’t mean anything. </em>
</p><p>A man walked by him and let out a noise of disgust. Crowley curled up tighter and tried his best to ignore it. He couldn’t help the fact that he was forced to sleep out here. Bee stiffed him with the money and he couldn’t afford a hotel room for the night. Maybe after the trip with Ezra, he could afford an actual apartment. Maybe this trip with Ezra would be just what he needed, amulet or not, to finally getting his life back on track. </p><p><em>Don’t get your hopes up. You’ll just get hurt.</em> The pragmatic side of his brain scolded. </p><p><em>He was such a beautiful man, though. Truly an angel sent to Earth to help lead the sinners to salvation. I’m a sinner, and maybe he’ll be my salvation.</em> The much less pragmatic side of his brain said. </p><p>And with that, Crowley finally slipped into a dreamless sleep.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>They met! They finally met! Thanks for the support everyone has given me on this fic. I'm so glad people are enjoying it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Tea, Biscuits, and another Business Conversation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ezra could hardly contain his excitement. Things were finally getting started. He had a guide, he had a general location. Hopefully, within the next few days, he could set off. Of course, he did still have to discuss with Mr. Crowley where exactly he wanted to go. And payment, of course. </p><p>He bit his lip, thinking about that flaming red hair and chiseled jaw-line. Oh, he was handsome. Ezra slipped into a dreamy state as he imagined Mr. Crowley again, practically perfect in every way. </p><p>Goodness! He didn’t even know the man. In fact, their first meeting had gone horribly. And yet, here he was, ready to go off into the Sahara at the drop of a hat. Maybe Gabriel was right. Maybe Ezra was a foolish man who knew nothing of the world. </p><p>Except, he didn’t feel fear thinking of Mr. Crowley. Quite the opposite. He felt safe and like he could truly trust the man. Just because someone was living in a less than desirable location with a less than desirable job didn’t mean they were less than desirable people. His mother would be ashamed if she thought he was judging someone based solely on their occupation. </p><p>“Do you have the maps?” Mr. Crowley’s voice jolted Ezra out of his daydreams. </p><p>“Er, hello there. Are you feeling better?” He hoped he didn’t have a dreamy, love-struck look on his face. Not that he loved Mr. Crowley. He loved Gabriel. Mr. Crowley was a business partner, an employee. It would be improper to have anything more than friendly affections towards the man. </p><p>Mr. Crowley dropped ungracefully into the seat. “Yeah. Loads.” He didn’t sound better. </p><p>And he didn’t look better either. There were still dark bruises littering his face and he was favoring his right side. </p><p>“Oh, dear. Are you sure you’ll be alright to go on this expedition? Please, don’t push yourself.” Ezra reached out to touch the bruising along his cheekbone, but thought better of it and picked up his teacup instead. </p><p>Crowley sniffed. “Yeah, I know. I’ll be fine. I’ve had worse.” </p><p>The statement sent chills up his spine. One should never have ‘had worse’. One should be free to live a life where they suffered no harm from violence. </p><p>“Okay, if you’re sure. But please, make sure you tell me if you need a rest. I’ll not have you dying in the Sahara.” He paused, then added, “And leave me alone to navigate my way back.” </p><p>Surprisingly, Mr. Crowley threw back his head and laughed. “You’d never be able to get back. Proper little Englishman like you? Naw, I won’t leave you out there alone. So, where are we going?” </p><p>“Right!” Ezra did a little wiggle in his seat before clamping down on the motion. Gabriel said it looked undignified and childish. That was the last impression he wanted to give Mr. Crowley. </p><p>He spread out several maps and papers on the table. “I can’t be certain, I am going on hearsay and speculation after all, but based on my research, I think the most likely place for the Amulet of Isis is here. This was one of her main temples and a place where they buried her favored priestesses.” </p><p>Crowley picked up the map and studied it. “How can you be sure it’s here? Surely, someone else would have thought to look for the Amulet of Isis at the Temple of Isis?” </p><p>“Oh, they have.” He gave a deliberate nod. “It was one of the first places they’ve looked, but Egyptians are known for having complex architecture full of passageways and underground tunnels. I’ve looked at blueprints and read accounts. Honestly, the temple seems like an incredibly simple structure, especially given the period it was built.” </p><p>“So you think the amulet is hidden in some sort of secret passageway or something? What, like we have to pull on a specific book, and the bookcase will turn around?” Crowley put the map back on the table. It didn’t sound like he was making fun of him, but it was impossible to be sure. Sometimes, when Ezra rambled, he said things that were subject to ridicule. </p><p>“Er, well, I can’t be sure. But remember, this was a gift to the Egyptian people. She wouldn’t want just anyone, particularly the Romans to have access to it. It’s probably not even magical. It’s probably just a very pretty necklace.” </p><p>For a second, Crowley’s entire visage changed. Ezra couldn’t place his finger on the emotion he saw, but it was intense. He was about to ask about it when Crowley spoke. </p><p>“Sounds like as good of a place to start as any.” He put down the map and pulled out his own, much more detailed one. He also pulled out a notebook and a few other map implements. He started muttering to himself as he scribbled notes in the notebook, traced lines and paths, and doublechecked Ezra’s own maps and notes. </p><p>He didn’t want to disrupt him, so he sat there, quietly, sipping his tea and waiting for Mr. Crowley to ask him another question, or say something. </p><p>He wondered if he should order something for the man. He did just show up and it was still a good time for breakfast. He didn’t want to seem presumptuous though. What if Mr. Crowley hated tea? Or biscuits? Ezra hadn’t touched the biscuits either. He didn’t want Mr. Crowley to think him a slob. They did look scrumptious though. Surely one wouldn’t hurt? </p><p>“Right,” Mr. Crowley sat up, jerking Ezra out of his thoughts. “You’re lucky. I know the area.” </p><p>“That’s wonderful.” He breathed a sigh of relief. He couldn’t imagine the Sahara having particularly unique terrain at different points. Wasn’t it all sand? Still, maybe there were hidden rock faces or whatnot. </p><p>“And I can assume you haven’t done any sort of long trip like this before?” </p><p>Even though Mr. Crowley was wearing sunglasses, Ezra could feel his stare studying his soft form. He sat up a little straighter, to appear slimmer. He wasn’t sure it worked. </p><p>“Um, no, I suppose not.” Shame heated his face and he looked back down at his teacup, now empty. Mr. Crowley must surely think of him as an ill-prepared aristocrat only wishing to have a good time and not take this trip seriously. There was no way to prove otherwise, though. And, to be perfectly honest, now that the actual physical part of the trip was around the corner, Ezra was starting to doubt himself. Perhaps, instead of spending those months locked away in his study researching, he should have gone on some runs with Gabriel, gone hiking with Madame Tracy, done something to prepare himself for the trip!</p><p>“Right, we’ll move slower then.” Mr. Crowley looked back at his notebook and scribbled some more things down. </p><p>“So you’ll still take me?” Oh, he had been so worried there for a moment. </p><p>“Mm, yeah. Of course, but out there, I’m the boss.” He looked back up at Ezra. “If I decide the trip is over, it’s over. No arguments. No protests. You listen to me, or you’ll die. Understood?” </p><p>Ezra nodded. Things were starting to get very real. </p><p>Mr. Crowley broke into a grin, showing off his perfect (and perfectly sharp) teeth. “Great! Now, based on the location, your physical level, time of year, and whatnot, I think about three months for the trip will be perfect.” </p><p>“Three months!” He had only expected to be gone for a few weeks. Three months was… well, three months was way too long to be away from home. </p><p>His smile dropped. “How long did you think it was going to be?” </p><p>“I- well, I…” He felt ashamed admitting his rather foolish hope to be back home by the end of the month.</p><p>“Angel,” oh, that nickname again. How it set flames to his heart. “It’s going to take us at least a month to get to the site, and another month to get back.” </p><p>“So why three months? That’s only two.” Not that two was any better than three. </p><p>“In case something goes wrong. Sandstorms, losing our way, injuries, rest days. I always tack on a month, just in case. It helps us be more prepared mentally if we’re out there for longer. When you’re out there, all alone with no civilization for miles, it can be maddening.” It sounded like he spoke from experience. </p><p>“Right, I suppose that makes sense. And you are the guide after all.” He really should send a telegram to Gabriel and let him know he was to be out of commission for the next few months just so he wouldn’t worry. Or, at least, worry less. </p><p>“Now, on the subject of payment?” Ezra was worried about this bit. He didn’t know how much a guide went for, and after hearing the time Mr. Crowley was projecting, this one expense might completely eat away at his advance. And he didn’t have any extra money to pay for things like a ticket home, or a hotel, or food. </p><p>“Hm, let’s do one hundred before the trip, one hundred after I get you back to Cairo safe and sound. And you can purchase all the food and whatnot.” </p><p>He breathed a sigh of relief. He’d still have eight hundred pounds then, more than enough to at least purchase a ticket to France or Italy. He could sleep on a bench if he needed it. </p><p>“Alright. That sounds fair enough.” </p><p>Mr. Crowley smiled at him again. It seemed so soft compared to Gabriel as if he actually thought of Ezra as an equal and not someone who needed to be trained out of his unsavory habits. It made his cheeks go warm and tingly. What an odd reaction.</p><p>“Here’s a list of food and quantities to get. We’ll meet tomorrow at the edge of the city. I’ll introduce you to the camels and then we’ll set off.” </p><p>“Tomorrow?” He knew they were going to leave soon, but not so soon. He still felt a bit unbalanced, a bit out of place.</p><p>“Got something important to do in Cairo?” Mr. Crowley asked, quirking his eyebrow. “I really wouldn’t recommend waiting. Weather’s good right now and the longer we put it off the more something can go wrong. Best just to jump in.” </p><p>He couldn’t argue with that, not without sounding weak. </p><p>“Okay, then. Tomorrow.” </p><p>“Eight am?” </p><p>“Eight am.” </p><p>Mr. Crowley nodded. “Great, see you around, angel.” </p><p>Ezra shivered once more at the nickname and waved to Mr. Crowley as he got up and left. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would finally set off. He could hardly wait. </p><p>------------------------------</p><p>DEAREST ANATHEMA STOP</p><p>I HAVE FOUND MR CROWLEY AND WILL BE HEADING OUT TO LOOK FOR THE AMULET TOMORROW STOP</p><p>HE ESTIMATES ABOUT TWO MONTHS OF TRAVEL THERE AND BACK STOP</p><p>PLEASE DO NOT WORRY IF YOU DO NOT HEAR FROM ME FOR SOME TIME STOP</p><p>I LOOK FORWARD TO TELLING YOU ALL ABOUT MY ADVENTURE STOP</p><p>GIVE NEWT MY LOVE AND APPRECIATION FOR THE FLIGHT STOP</p><p>EZRA Z FELL STOP</p><p>Anathem smiled at the telegram. She’d have to call Gabriel and ask if he received word of Ezra’s whereabouts, but something told her he didn’t know anything. Now, though, there were more pressing matters to attend to. On her desk was a letter from Madame Tracy. </p><p>
  <em>Dear Ms. Device,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The information you’ve given me might just shake the entire parliament. I’ll have to do some more digging, but if your information is correct, we might be in for a rare scandalous spectacle. Make sure Ezra isn’t involved.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sincerely,<br/>
Madame Tracy<br/>
Journalist<br/>
Tadfield Press </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next chapter, they will be off in the desert. Then it will be just Crowley and Aziraphale. Will Azirphale manage to shake off Gabriel's influence? Will he give into his desires and fall for Crowley? Will the camels cooperate? I guess you'll just have to wait and see.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Bring on the Camels!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to everyone who has commented, given kudos, bookmarked, and subscribed! It means a lot to me to have this support and I'm glad so many people are enjoying this story. Have a great week!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ezra made his way through the busy streets of Cairo. The cab driver had stopped at the end of the road before explaining he couldn’t go any farther due to the market. </p><p>It was exciting to see the people bustling about. Stalls sold a variety of things, from fascinating little trinkets to mounds of spices Ezra could only dream of trying. His stomach rumbled but he shushed it. It had had plenty to eat. Besides, it wasn’t like he was going to eat a spoonful of pepper or saffron, or whatever else was piled high. People were shouting, haggling, trying to catch his attention to sell their wares. It was all so exciting, but he was on a mission. He had to meet Mr. Crowley. Then he and Mr. Crowley would go off into the desert. </p><p>For two months. </p><p>Alone. </p><p>Oh, there was that fear creeping up on the back of his mind once more. It was so terrifying to think he would be at the mercy of a man he barely knew. He bit his lip and continued forward. At this point, he had no choice. He had the money for Mr. Crowley in his breast pocket and was carrying several bags of food. He was intent on going out into the world and experiencing it. Still, perhaps he should have brought a gun. </p><p>Finally, the stalls of the market thinned, the people grew sparser, and he felt like he could breathe. </p><p>“Quit your whining, you lazy thing,” </p><p>Ezra perked up upon hearing Mr. Crowley’s voice off in the distance. Who was he talking to?</p><p>“Useless animal. I’m not carrying everything. That’s why I have you!” </p><p>Ezra turned a corner to see Mr. Crowley surrounded by three large camels. Two of them were laden with supplies while the third seemed to be trying to get away from Mr. Crowley. </p><p>“Get back here, James!” Mr. Crowley shouted at the camel as it skipped away from him. </p><p>“Do you need help?” Ezra asked. Not that he knew much about camel wrangling, but it would be rude not to offer. </p><p>“Ezra!” Mr. Crowley whirled around and smoothed back his hair. </p><p>Ezra blushed. He was looking much better this morning. The bruising on his face faded and his hair had been brushed and combed back. He looked ever so handsome in the soft morning light. </p><p>“Right on time. Great.” </p><p>James, the camel, snuck up behind Mr. Crowley and nipped at his hair. “Oi, you stop that, or I’m leaving you behind!” He whirled around, this time managing to catch the camel’s reins. </p><p>“Do you need help?” Ezra asked again as Mr. Crowley wrestled up one of James’ leg and bound it to itself. He winced. “Is that hurting him?” </p><p>“Concerned for the bloody camel?” Mr. Crowley asked as he went to load up the rest of the supplies. </p><p>“Well, yes. I’m not one to sit by while animals are abused. The poor thing. How would you like it if your leg was tied up like that?” </p><p>“It’s called hobbling, angel.” He turned and grinned, flashing his sharp, white teeth. “It stops them from moving around. Camels are some of the most opinionated animals in the world. Makes them nearly impossible to work with. He’ll be fine. I just do this to keep them in place when they don’t want to sit still. Bentley and Freddie aren’t hobbled.” He turned to the other two. “Because they know who’s the boss around here.” </p><p>“Your camels are named James, Freddie, and Bentley?” He didn’t know what he was expecting in terms of camel names, but he didn’t think Mr. Crowley, with his black shirt, dark sunglasses, and fangs, would have named them that. </p><p>“What would you name them?” </p><p>He thought for a moment. “Charlotte, Emily, and Anne,” he said with an air of finality. He always loved the Bronte sisters. Not as much as Jane Austen’s work, mind you. But there weren’t three Jane Austens.</p><p>“They’re male camels,” Mr. Crowley said, though there wasn’t a bite to his words. </p><p>“And? Who says Charlotte, Emily, and Anne can’t be male names? Who says camels need to abide by the rules of human gender? They don’t care. They’re camels.” </p><p>Mr. Crowley threw back his head and laughed. “You got me there, angel. I like you. You’re logic’s sound.” </p><p>Ezra felt as though he were being made fun of, but he didn’t dare argue. He knew it was stupid to name male camels after female authors. Gabriel would have tutted at him and told him to name them something more masculine, like after American presidents or British war heroes or something. </p><p>“Right,” Mr. Crowley finished loading up the last of the supplies and turned to him. “I expect you to help me load and unload them, set up the tents and whatnot. It’ll go much faster, which means we can travel for longer.” </p><p>“Tents?” There were only two of them. They didn’t need two tents. Ezra was perfectly okay with staying in the same tent as Mr. Crowley. Though, being so close to such a good-looking man… the temptation was going to be difficult to overcome, but he would overcome it. </p><p>“Ngk, yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Um, I just thought… you know… we don’t know each other. So, yeah?” He was clearly trying to let him down easy, to think of an excuse that wouldn’t offend him. </p><p>“Oh, it’s okay if you’re not comfortable sleeping with me.” The knowledge that Mr. Crowley didn’t want to be near him more than absolutely necessary hurt, even if it wasn’t all that surprising. Ezra was probably the last person on earth Mr. Crowley would want to spend a lot of time with. </p><p>“Oh, yeah.” </p><p>“Besides, my fiancé might not want me bedding down with another man,” he chuckled. Truth be told, Gabriel wouldn’t want him even looking at another man, no matter how innocent. And he had not been looking at Mr. Crowley in an innocent way.</p><p>“Fiancé?” Mr. Crowley sounded surprised. This stung Ezra more than the knowledge that he didn’t want to share a tent. He knew he wasn’t much to look at and wasn’t much of a conversationalist, but even he could snag a fiancé if he tried hard enough. </p><p>“Yes. My fiancé.” He crossed his arms and glared at Mr. Crowley, daring him to say more on the subject so he could defend himself. He would tell the man that Gabriel was a wonderful, handsome, smart man and he loved Ezra for all of his flaws… er, he loved Ezra despite all of his flaws. </p><p>“Right, yeah.” Mr. Crowley continued to stutter. “Well then, shall we get started?” </p><p>“Oh, yes. I’m excited.” </p><p>Mr. Crowley undid the hobble on James, tied him to Bentley (or possibly Freddie, Ezra didn’t know the difference between the two yet), and started off away from the edge of Cairo. </p><p>Ezra took a deep breath. He was standing on the edge. Behind him was civilization, a strange civilization, a foreign civilization, but civilization none the less. In front of him, spread out for miles, was the wild. It was new, it was strange, it was uncertain. He could turn around right now and head back to his hotel. </p><p>Then again, he wasn’t so sure he could. From the moment he decided to use the suit pick up as a chance to escape, he was on a path. He could only move forward now. There was no turning back. </p><p>“Ezra, are you okay?” Mr. Crowley turned to look at him. Despite his dark glasses shielding his eyes, Ezra could see worry written onto his features. </p><p>“Yes, I’m just taking a moment to process. I’ve never done anything like this before.” </p><p>“Yeah, I gathered.” He scratched his chin. “It’s really not that bad, once you get used to it. It’s kind of nice out there. There’s no people, no noise, just you and your thoughts.” </p><p>“And some camels with strong personalities?” </p><p>Mr. Crowley chuckled. “Yeah, and some camels with some strong personalities.” </p><p>“You know, I’ve been telling myself that the adventure is about to begin if I just complete one more task if I just do one more thing if I just meet with one more person. It’s strange to think that it really is about to begin.” </p><p>Mr. Crowley smiled. “I feel like you’ve already been on an adventure. I mean, not many upper-class Londoners are going to go to the bad part of town to commission a man who they saw get their arse handed to them to take them out into the desert.” </p><p>He was right. Ezra had already done so many amazing things, things he never thought possible. He already got out of his comfort zone and made some choices. Somehow, knowing all of this, it made that step, that first step out of Cairo, seem that much simpler, and easier. After all, he had already made hundreds, if not thousands of steps, in the past few days. </p><p>He smiled and stepped off the road and into the sand, catching up with Mr. Crowley. </p><p>“Lead the way, Mr. Crowley,” he said, smiling.</p><p>Mr. Crowley made a face. “Don’t call me that. That’s my father’s name.” </p><p>“Then what should I call you?” </p><p>“Crowley’s fine.” </p><p>He scowled to the distance and Ezra could tell something was going on. There was something Mr. Crowley, er, Crowley wasn't saying. He decided not to press. He didn't want to make his guide angry so soon into the trip. There would be plenty of time later for him to discover just how useless and cumbersome Ezra was. </p><p>The sun, despite it being so early in the morning, beat down on them. Ezra was sweating profusely, staining his white shirt. He could feel the back of his neck burning with the heat of the sun. </p><p>"How you doing, angel?" Crowley called ahead of him. </p><p>"Fine. Just fine." He needed to change the subject, if he stayed too long in his own thoughts he could only think about how uncomfortable he was and how much he hated being out here in the sun. Why couldn't he have decided to go on an adventure in Scotland? There were lots of fun little lost trinkets he could go looking for and he would have to deal with this blasted sun. </p><p>"Why do you call me angel?" He jogged to catch up to Crowley, not wanting to seem weak. His legs were burning. His chest was burning. Everything was burning. For not having any mountains, the Sahara was sure difficult to cross. Had they even gone a mile?</p><p>Crowley shrugged. "You look like an angel." </p><p>"I highly doubt that," he huffed. He was trying to look dignified, but sweat continued to pour from his brow and he wanted to rip his shirt off and collapse face-first into a pool was cool water, English manners be damned!</p><p>Crowley glanced at him. His glasses didn't quite cover his eyes and Ezra could see he did have yellow eyes. Must be a birth defect, poor thing. He wondered if it caused him any discomfort; if it made him sensitive to light. That would explain his constant need for the glasses, even in the darkly lit bar. </p><p>"You've seen renaissance paintings, right? Guy like you couldn't possibly have gone your whole life without seeing any renaissance paintings." </p><p>"I have indeed seen paintings by the great renaissance artists," he said, puffing up his chest slightly. He loved going to the Louvre. He hadn't gone in a while. Gabriel thought that looking at art was a waste of one's time. What was the point? Ezra had tried to explain to him the point, but it was no use. </p><p>"Then you've seen how they paint angels. Golden curls, blue eyes, round faces. You're like a spitting image of... of... hm, can't think of any names right now, but don't let that make you think I'm messing with you. Art's not really my thing." </p><p>He blushed and glanced down at the sand. "You're not just saying this to play a cruel trick on me?" </p><p>"Fuck, angel!" Crowley sounded genuinely offended. "Who has treated you so badly that you can't take a compliment without thinking it's some sort of cruel prank?" </p><p>Gabriel.</p><p>"Excuse me if I don't know you very well, Mr. Crowley. One must be careful when one is dealing with their feelings." </p><p>Crowley held up his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. I'll leave it alone. So what does the mysterious Ezra Fell like to do in his free time? Promise, I'm not going to make fun of you for it." </p><p>It seemed too innocent. Ezra had the distinct feeling that he was walking into a trap. Except, he couldn't figure out why Crowley was setting one for him. What could this man possibly gain by humiliating him? He decided to go with something inoffensive. </p><p>"I do like Shakespeare," he admitted. He loved going to see the plays in whatever venue they were presented. And, given that it was Shakespeare, there were a lot of venues to present them. He had seen modern reconstructions, minimalist interpretations, amateur actors, renowned actors, and even a few Tinsel town productions. </p><p>"Yeah, that seems about right," Crowley said, smiling. "What's your favorite." </p><p>"Hamlet." The answer was immediate. For some reason, it had always struck such a chord with Ezra. Perhaps it was because Hamlet was his first Shakespeare play. He still felt his heart race thinking about him and his mother sitting in the dark theater as he watched the drama unfold. </p><p>Crowley groaned. "Really? You like the gloomy ones?" </p><p>"What's wrong with the gloomy ones?" </p><p>"The funny ones are so much better. Why would anyone want to experience tragedy? Isn't there enough of that in life already?" He had a point, and not one Ezra could fully argue against. </p><p>Still, he felt the need to defend the Bard. Some of his greatest works were tragedies. Though Ezra never made great arguments and this could end with egg on his face. </p><p>"In my opinion, experiencing tragedy through fiction is incredibly important." </p><p>"How so?" Crowley actually seemed interested in what he had to say. Sure, he was looking ahead of them, one hand on the reins of Bentley as he led them through the desert, but he seemed to be actually listening to Ezra. </p><p>"As you said, tragedy happens in life. Experiencing tragedy in fiction helps us understand the fact that bad things happen. It gives us a warning about the bad things that might happen. And it helps us process the tragedy when it does happen. No one can be happy forever and sometimes, you need that tragic play or book or what have you to come to terms with what's happened to you." </p><p>Crowley glanced at him, his face somber. "I suppose you have a point. Still prefer the funny ones." </p><p>At least he wasn't laughing at him. </p><p>"My bounty is as boundless as the sea. My love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite." Crowley's voice was smooth, soft, gentle. </p><p>Ezra smiled. "Romeo and Juliet. A tragedy." </p><p>"If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?" </p><p>"Merchant of Venice, a comedy. My, my, Crowley. You do know your Shakespeare." </p><p>"Double, double, boil, and trouble." </p><p>Ezra rolled his eyes at this one. "Really? That one's too easy. Macbeth. A tragedy." </p><p>He laughed. "Alright, alright. Let's see if I can get one that'll really stump you." </p><p>"I highly doubt that." </p><p>"Give me a moment, angel. I have to think. You threw down the gauntlet, it's only fair I answer the challenge." </p><p>Crowley thought for a moment and Ezra let him think. This was fun, guessing the plays in which these quotes came from. When he got back to London, he should try and catch a show. Or, when he got back to Cairo, he could look into the Shakespeare theater and see how the locals put on a show. </p><p>"Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin, as self-neglecting," Crowley said. </p><p>Ezra opened his mouth, ready to let him know the name of the play, and yet, the play didn't come to him. He paused and thought. "And that is a Shakespeare quote?" He asked. </p><p>Crowley nodded. "Yup. I'm not going to trick you. Come on, angel, use that big brain of yours. Surely you must know where this one is from?" </p><p>"Richard II?" He knew that wasn't the right answer, but it was all he got. </p><p>"Sorry, angel. Look's like I won this round." Crowley shook his head and smiled. "Henry V, tragedy, and historical play." </p><p>"You really do know your Shakespeare. It's nice to have someone I can talk to about this." </p><p>"You don't talk about it with your fiancé?" He frowned. </p><p>"Um, well, no. You see, Gabriel doesn't really like Shakespeare or the arts in general. I'd rather not bore him with the details and analyses." </p><p>"Surely he must bore you with his own interests." </p><p>He did. He talked constantly about politics. So much so that Ezra actually fell asleep during one of his rants about Britain's discussion on the annexation of Canada. Terribly dry stuff. </p><p>"I respect his interests, he respects mine. Let's drop it and talk about something else." He didn't know why he felt so defensive over his relationship with Gabriel. Crowley wasn't engaged, he didn't understand the complexities of having a long-term relationship. It required sacrifice. Sometimes you had to cut bits off of yourself to fit the other person better. It was only fair and it was the secret for long-term success and happiness. What would Crowley of all people know about that? </p><p>"If you say so. We should set up camp anyways." </p><p>Had they really been walking for so long? "It's still light out, though. And I can walk for a little more." </p><p>It was true that everything hurt and was burning, but Ezra didn't want Crowley to hold back on his account. He would suffer until his body figured out the suffering wasn't going to end and transform to suit the situation better. </p><p>"Nah, it's only the first day. Besides, I need to teach you how to unload the camels and set up camp. Then we'll need to get dinner and by that point, it'll be nearly dark out." </p><p>He did have a point. Ezra decided not to argue. Perhaps in a few days, they could go longer. </p><p>Crowley taught him how to unload the camels, but warned him not to touch Bentley. Apparently, she was his favorite. James and Freddie, on the other hand, were much less picky towards who went up to them. The tents were relatively easy to set up and in no time, they had themselves a functioning camp. </p><p>"I have to admit, angel," Crowley said as he dug around for their dinner. "You did better than I thought." </p><p>"Really?" He felt like he was slowing everything down. </p><p>"Yeah. You're a tough one, I can tell." </p><p>The praise made his cheeks flush and his stomach twist in ways he wasn't used to. "You don't have to flatter me. I know I'm not very athletic." </p><p>"Nope, not going to have that," Crowley said, shaking his head. "You did great. Are you a master desert traverser? Nope, but you're way better than some of the other people I've to lead out here. We're on schedule and if we keep up this pace, we'll get to the temple in no time." </p><p>They ate a simple meal of dried meat and camel's milk, which was thoroughly strange, though not the worst thing Ezra ever ate. Crowley continued to be a pleasant conversation partner. He listened when Ezra talked, didn't try and force the conversation into a direction he wanted and was charming in his own stories. </p><p>"And then," Crowley was laughing, telling an entertaining story about Bee's takedown at a low-level mafioso type who thought they could intimidate them. "And then Bee just smashed the bottle over his head. You should have seen this guy’s face, angel!" </p><p>Ezra let out a laugh and relaxed. It was cooling off now that the sun was going down. He looked up to see some stars starting to dot the sky. </p><p>"Do you know much about stars?" </p><p>Crowley went white as a sheet. "Shit, I didn't realize it was so late." He stood up so swiftly, his stool toppled back. </p><p>"Well, today was great. See you tomorrow bright and early. Good night, angel." </p><p>Ezra barely had time to protest as Crowley tripped over himself trying to get into the tent. </p><p>"Crowley?" He called. "Are you alright?" </p><p>"Fine. Just fine. I'm an early bird. Like to sleep. Goodnight. Don't talk to me again!" The lantern in his tent went out and Ezra was left completely alone. </p><p>Well, not completely alone. Freddie hobbled over and started mouthing at his hair. </p><p>"That was strange." He looked around at the empty desert and then back at the sky. There were more stars now and the sun was almost completely gone. "I guess I'll turn in as well. Goodnight, Freddie." </p><p>He patted the camel's neck and then went into his own tent. Despite spending the entire day with Mr. Crowley, he felt as though he knew nothing more about the man. If anything, he knew less. He pulled out his journal and wrote down the day's events. When he got to the end, he paused. Then, in steady handwriting, he added. </p><p>
  <em>What is Mr. Crowley hiding?</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Temptations in the Oasis</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Wow,” Crowley said as Ezra got the tent packed away in under ten minutes. “You’ve gotten much faster. Keep this up and we’ll get to the temple ahead of schedule.” </p><p>Ezra beamed. “No need to flatter me.” Though he couldn’t find fault in Crowley’s words. </p><p>It had only been a week, but he had improved so much. What used to take him thirty minutes of wrestling with the tent and then wrestling with James to get the tent on his back turned into a smooth fifteen-minute process. He had even started walking faster. The soreness was still there, mainly in his legs and back, but it was fading. And each day he felt himself going further and faster than he ever thought possible. The sun no longer bothered him and the blisters on his feet had started to scab over and roughen. Even his hands were getting rough from the constant work. </p><p>“I’m not flattering you. Do I really look like the kind of guy who would flatter you?” Crowley set off in a seemingly random direction. Ezra knew he consulted maps and compasses. He had to. There were no points of interest to be heading towards in this desert. Nothing but sand dunes and blue sky for miles. And yet, Crowley did not seem to be consulting maps and compasses nearly as often at Ezra thought necessary. </p><p>“How do you know where we’re going?” he asked, trotting to catch up with him. </p><p>“Are you doubting me, angel?” He was grinning at him. It made Ezra’s heart flutter. </p><p>“No. I’m just curious. It’s not like you can use the stars to guide you or anything. I’m trusting that you won’t get us lost. But I can still be curious.” </p><p>“Ngk,” Crowley looked away from him, almost ashamed. </p><p>Over the past week, Ezra had been making notes on each little strange thing Crowley did. Perhaps it was a bit obsessive to pick through someone’s personality. He had his strange quirks, but he couldn’t help it. There was something so mysterious about Crowley and try as he might, he could never get an answer. </p><p>“Um, well, once you’ve been out in the desert enough, you start to get a feel for it. It’s just like any other place. Forests are just full of trees. All mountains can look the same if you’re not used to it.” </p><p>“Yes, but forests have points of interest, running water, moss, animal tracks to follow. Here, there’s nothing. All tracks are covered over by sand in a matter of minutes. There are no mountains to aim for. Just sand as far as the eye can see.” </p><p>Crowley didn’t answer. </p><p>Ezra decided to try another approach. “Besides, what if we do get lost? How can we find out way back.” </p><p>At this, he snorted. “Camels are homebodies. They hate leaving their comfort zone. If we’re really desperate, we’ll put Freddie in the front and follow him. He’ll get us to civilization eventually.” </p><p>As if he understood, Freddie nipped at Ezra’s shoulder. “Who knew Camel’s were such complex creatures.” </p><p>“Pains in the ass. That’s what they are. Picky, lazy, stubborn, and can hold a grudge like no other. Hastur can’t get within twenty feet of James to this day. He’ll get trampled.”</p><p>“What did Hastur do to deserve such harsh treatment?” </p><p>“Hell if I know. But it’s Hastur, so he must have done something awful.” Crowley was grinning once more. </p><p>There was a bit of a rivalry between Hastur and Crowley, and Ligur and Crowley. Ezra was desperate to know more. </p><p>“What is with this little rivalry anyways? It seems rather childish.” </p><p>Crowley shrugged. “Eh, Hastur and Ligur, they aren’t good guys. They’re greedy and dangerous. They’ll rob you blind, kick you while you’re down, and then spit on your corpse. I know I’m not the best person in the world, but I hate the fact that they’re cruel for no reason. Robbing someone because you need to eat is one thing. Robbing someone for sport is another.” </p><p>It was hard to argue with that. Still, it didn’t quite give Ezra what he was looking for. What he was hoping for. </p><p>He opened his mouth to ask another question when Crowley’s visage lit up and he dashed up the sand dune. </p><p>“Crowley?” he called out, running after him. Running in the sand was difficult. How had Crowley gotten up the embankment so quickly? It felt like Ezra was running through molasses. </p><p>“Angel! You won’t believe this! I knew it was somewhere around here.” Crowley whipped out his binoculars and looked out into the desert.</p><p>“What? What are you talking about?” He was panting, gasping, out of breath. Curse him and his love for sweets! He must look like a fool, out of breath after only a few meters of running. </p><p>“This.” Crowley grabbed his hand and pulled him up the last few feet. </p><p>Ezra looked out and squinted. He didn’t see anything of particular interest. Crowley must have gone mad with the heat. It appeared Ezra would have to put Freddie in front and follow him home, hoping Crowley’s lesson about camel’s being homebodies was true. </p><p>“Here, look.” He pressed the binoculars into Ezra’s hand. </p><p>He took them and looked out. There, in the distance, he could just barely make out what appeared to be trees. “Is that what I think it is?” </p><p>“Yup,” Crowley sounded pleased with himself. “Your very first oasis. Come on, it’s only about an hour away.” He whistled for the camels and then slid down the dune towards the oasis. </p><p>Ezra lowered the binoculars and bit his lip. “What exactly are we going to do there?” He slid down after Crowley. </p><p>“Rest day, angel. You deserve it.” </p><p>“Um, I’m really fine.” He was not weak. He could continue on for miles. They shouldn’t be stopping. Especially so soon into their journey. What if they fell behind schedule. </p><p>Crowley stopped and turned to him, frowning. “You don’t want to go see the oasis? I thought it’d be more fun for your readers. You know, give them something else to read about. I’m sure right now the book’s going: ‘And then there was more sand. Then we got up the next morning, and guess what, more sand. Then we saw, surprise! More sand!’.” </p><p>“Um, well—” He couldn’t say the past week had been terribly exciting to write about, but that’s why authors did time skips and condensed things into a few sentences if needed. </p><p>“I don’t want you to feel like we have to stop on my account. I would hate to put us behind schedule.” </p><p>Crowley groaned and started walking. “What did I tell you this morning?” </p><p>“That I was getting faster?” </p><p>“And when we first started off, why did I say we planned for three months and not two?” </p><p>“In case of sandstorms?” </p><p>“And for rest days!” Crowley threw up his hands. “You can’t keep going at one hundred percent forever. You have to stop and take a break.” </p><p>“I know that,” Ezra looked down at his feet, ashamed for some reason. “But it’s only been a week. I can go a little longer.” </p><p>“Angel, oases aren’t dotted around the Sahara like fish and chip places in London. It could be days, weeks even before we come across another one. Trust me, it’s a lot more fun relaxing in an oasis than surrounded by sand, squatting on a tiny stool.”</p><p>“I just don’t want you to think me weak.” He bit his lip. He hated admitting it out loud. The more vulnerable he was, the more ammunition Crowley would have to hurt him. But being alone with him, with no one else around for miles, it messed with his head. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many things he had pushed deep down in himself to avoid feeling. For some reason, being out here with Crowley, it was threatening to spill out in an ugly display of tears. </p><p>“Seriously, angel, who’s been so mean to you?” </p><p>Gabriel.</p><p>“You can’t blame me for being cautious when you didn’t even want to do this in the first place,” he snapped. There was instant guilt. </p><p>Crowley stopped once more and took a deep breath. He then turned to Ezra. “I don’t think you’re weak. This isn’t some thinly veiled comment about your abilities. You don’t have to prove yourself to me, Ezra. You already have. I’m sorry I made you feel uncomfortable when we first met. This isn’t out of pity, or because I think you’re weak. You need to rest so you can keep up. It’s a long trip, and it’ll only get harder.” </p><p>His voice was so soft and even. Ezra couldn’t detect anything malicious or devious in his delivery. Still, he couldn’t trust anything. He had been burned before. But he also couldn’t find a reason to deny Crowley’s request for a rest. It did sound nice, lounging around the oasis. A change of scenery for his readers. A place to soak his tired feet, maybe scrub off some of the sand that had accumulated on his body. </p><p>“Thank you, my dear.” He smiled. “I’m sorry I got so snappy. I’m just afraid you’re slowing yourself down for me.” </p><p>Crowley took his hand and tugged him towards the oasis. Ezra’s brain shut off at the contact. It had been so long since he last held hands with someone. Crowley’s palm was rough, calloused, and slightly cold despite the desert heat. All too quickly, Crowley let their hands drop and continued walking as if nothing had happened. </p><p>“Angel, trust me when I say, I will go as slow as I need to survive. It’s not like I get paid more if we go slower or faster. I’m in no rush, and I want you to be alive so I can read your masterpiece.” </p><p>“Oh, it’s not going to be a masterpiece. I’m not that great of a writer.” </p><p>“How about you let me and your fans be the judge of that.” </p><p>He blushed, a shy smile creeping onto his lips. Crowley could be such a charming man at times. Whoever he ended up marrying would be a very lucky person indeed. </p><p>The oasis itself was amazing. There was nothing but golden sand surrounding them for miles and yet here, in the middle of it all, was a pool of crystal clear water and towering green trees. </p><p>“Wow,” Ezra breathed as he took in the site. </p><p>“Told you you’d like it.” Crowley was grinning ear to ear. “Come on, let’s unload the camels and give them a bit of a rest then we can get settled.” </p><p>“Are we staying here all day?” Ezra asked, grabbing James and getting him to stand still long enough to remove the packs and tents. </p><p>“Maybe. Depends on how we feel. No need to rush, though. We’re ahead of schedule, remember?” </p><p>The camels, freed from their burdens, took the chance to gallop around, rolling in the sand like giant dogs before running to the water. </p><p>Crowley laughed. “Big children, the lot of them.” </p><p>Ezra smiled. It was so peaceful here, so beautiful. “I always thought the Saraha’s beauty started and ended with golden sands and endless blue skies,” He said, setting up a small stool near the water’s edge. “It’s truly amazing the amount of diversity I’ve seen in such a short time. The way the sand ripples to reflect the wind. The millions of stars in the night sky. The way something like this can come from nowhere.” </p><p>Crowley’s smile dropped. “Um, yeah. It’s beautiful alright.” </p><p>He wanted to ask why he seemed so sad. He had been joyful not two minutes prior. </p><p>Then Crowley took off his shirt. </p><p>“Mr. Crowley!” Ezra scrambled off the stool and back as if seeing Crowley’s naked torso would burn him. </p><p>“What? And I told you not to call me Mr. Crowley. Crowley or nothing.” He didn’t stop with the shirt. Oh no. He then shimmied out of his pants. All of his pants. Thank God his back was turned to Ezra. </p><p>He slammed a hand over his eyes. “It’s not proper to disrobe!” </p><p>“I’m not going swimming wearing my clothes. Besides, I want to wash them.” </p><p>He heard some splashing and peaked between his fingers to see Crowley wading into the water. </p><p>“Yes, but…” </p><p>“Seriously?” He was laughing at him. “You wanted to be a doctor. Surely you’ve seen naked men before?” </p><p>Naked dead men who had donated their bodies to science. Not… not naked alive men who he was slightly (completely) infatuated with.</p><p>“Come on, angel. The water feels so nice. Get in here.” </p><p>Figuring Crowley’s body would be somewhat hidden by the water, Ezra pulled his hand down to see him floating in the water. Was that… Nope, not looking. Not even attempting to catch a peek at Crowley’s cock. Besides, the water distorted images. There was no way it was that big. Nope. Not possible. Even if it was, Ezra certainly was not looking. </p><p>“I’m quite fine here. Thank you very much.” He sat back on the stool as primly as he could manage. </p><p>Crowley rolled his eyes and dunked his head under the water. When he emerged, he sighed, a serene expression on his face (though he still kept those blasted glasses on). “Come on, angel. Don’t you want to get clean.” </p><p>He did. </p><p>“Maybe wash your clothes?” His voice was like honey. </p><p>“I’m sure you’re all sweaty and dirty.” </p><p>He was, and yet the way Crowley was talking it sounded like the filthiest, sexiest thing in the world. </p><p>“The water will feel divine on your muscles. You’ll feel like a new man.” </p><p>“You’re like the serpent of Eden,” Ezra said. “Whispering temptations into my ear.” </p><p>Crowley grinned and swam towards the bank. “Is it working? Innocent little angel?” </p><p>It sounded like he was flirting with him. But he couldn’t be. A man like Crowley would never want someone like him. </p><p>“No.” Ezra tried to sound firm. He wasn’t sure if it worked. “Besides, I’m not much to look at.” </p><p>He was aware of his stomach, pressing into his arms, rounded from too many sweets and not enough work. Even though he had been exerting himself much more than usual, he could still feel the slight stretch in his pants as his body pressed against the seams.</p><p>“Really?” Crowley snorted. “You look like sex with legs— er, at least, I think that’s probably what your fiancé thinks of you. He’s your fiancé after all.” </p><p>He didn’t. Ezra’s body was a constant source of arguments and ridicule. </p><p>“Besides,” Crowley continued. “I look at camels all day. You don’t look like a camel, so why should you be ugly?”</p><p>He was saying all the right things. It was a trap. It had to be a trap. But Ezra desperately wanted to wash off, to feel somewhat human again. </p><p>“Promise you won’t laugh. Or make fun of me,” He said, standing and beginning to unbutton his shirt. </p><p>“Fuck, angel, I’m not cruel! Why would I laugh at you?” </p><p>Ezra could think of a thousand reasons why Gabriel would laugh at his body, but he couldn’t think of a reason Crowley would. </p><p>“I was teased as a child for not being as… athletic as the other kids,” he lied. “The fear never truly went away.” </p><p>“Children are twats.” Crowley waved his hand at him. “I’m not ten. I can find other things funny.” </p><p>“About me?” </p><p>“No, about life. Part of growing up, realizing that making fun of people isn’t as fun as making fun of life itself.” </p><p>Ezra took a deep breath and pulled off his pants. He hadn’t been naked in front of someone for… goodness, had he really not had sex in almost a year? He’d have to rectify that with Cro- with Gabriel. When he got back. After this trip. </p><p>Crowley’s dark glasses prevented Ezra from seeing where he was looking. His face was still in his general direction, but he couldn’t tell if he was looking at him, at his body. </p><p>Ezra waded into the water. It was cool, but not cold. It did feel heavenly on his muscles and he let out a soft moan as he slipped completely into the water. </p><p>Crowley grinned. “Told you you’d like it.” </p><p>“Yes, yes. Just like the Serpent of Eden, you’ve managed to tempt me into undressing in front of you. Imagine the scandal in high society London!” </p><p>“Are you going to include this in your book? I bet a lot of monocles will be popping out at the fact that buttoned up Ezra Fell stripped in the desert without even a partitioning screen.” </p><p>He rolled his eyes and splashed some water at him. </p><p>“Oi!” </p><p>“Don’t complain. You’re already wet.” </p><p>Crowley chocked a bit. </p><p>“You’re glasses? Why do you never take them off?” Maybe it was the relaxed atmosphere, maybe he was drunk on the sun exposure. Regardless, there was courage in his blood and he was determined to find out at least one thing about Crowley. </p><p>“Um,” Crowley looked away from him, ashamed. “My eyes. They’re sensitive to light.” </p><p>“Then why on Earth are you in Egypt? I can think of a hundred other places that aren’t nearly as bright.” </p><p>Crowley didn’t look at him. He didn’t answer him for a long time. Had he pushed too far too fast? He should apologize for bringing it up. </p><p>“Ezra,” Crowley sounded so uncertain, so unsure. </p><p>Ezra swam closer to him, wanting to touch but not sure if it was allowed. </p><p>“Have you ever made a mistake that you could never fix?” </p><p>This surprised him. Out of all the things he expected to say, this was not one of them. </p><p>“What do you mean?” </p><p>“I mean, sometimes I feel like, even though I’m not even thirty yet, I’ve ruined my life and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to fix it. I’m stuck, here in limbo until I die.” </p><p>He looked down at his hands, at his pale body shining in the water. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to not trivialize Crowley’s clear shame and desperation. But at the same time, he couldn’t say anything. Despite only knowing each other for a week, Crowley had become a friend to him. </p><p>Damning whatever rules he thought were in place, he laid a hand on Crowley’s shoulder. He jumped at the contact, looking at him with shock written on his face. </p><p>“I don’t know what you did. And you don’t have to tell me, but there’s always something that can be done. It might take a long time. But most mistakes are not permanent.” </p><p>Crowley looked back at the water and sighed. “I’m not sure I believe that.” He swam back to shore. “I’m going to wash my clothes.” </p><p>Ezra didn’t know how to help him. He didn’t know what to say. It didn’t sound like he made things worse, but he certainly didn’t make things better. He’d have to think over how to cheer him up. There had to be something that could make Crowley happy. <br/>-------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid! </p><p>Crowley was curled up in his tent, thinking over his conversation with Ezra. He was so stupid to bring it up. It wasn’t Ezra’s problem! He couldn’t help him! Crowley had gotten too comfortable, too complacent. </p><p>Ezra was a beautiful specimen of a man. If he didn’t have a fiancé, Crowley would have already kissed him. But no, Ezra was engaged to some asshole. Seriously, no matter what the subject was, there seemed to be nothing redeeming about Gabriel! </p><p>Crowley had let his heart get in the way of his head, again, and now he had admitted something to Ezra he should have never admitted. How was he supposed to come back from this? How was he supposed to carry on as if nothing had ever happened? Ezra was smart (even if Gabe didn’t seem to think so). He knew something was up and he would start asking questions Crowley couldn’t answer. </p><p>He ruined everything, all because he was desperate for someone to admit he wasn’t a bad person. He was a bad person. He was an unforgivable demon. Putting this burden on Ezra was unfair. It would only end in heartbreak for both of them. </p><p>He had to get a grip on his emotions. He had to be in control. </p><p>It was a job. It was just a job. They’d get to the temple, fail to find the amulet, and then go their separate ways, never to see each other again. Give up on hope. Give up on happy endings. It wasn’t happening. It would never happen. </p><p>Crowley’s life had been one of pain, mistakes, and suffering. He was reaping those rewards. It wasn’t going to change. Ezra was not his salvation. </p><p><em>He still tried to help you. He still tried to make you feel better. </em> </p><p>
  <em>Only because he doesn’t know me.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Sandstorms have the Worst Timing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sexy-times with some Bottom Aziraphale ahead! Maybe I should up the rating the E. What do you guys think?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Crowley felt guilty after the oasis experience. He had planned for it to be relaxing, and maybe somewhat romantic. He knew Ezra had a fiancé and he also knew without a doubt Ezra would never cheat on him, but… Wishful thinking. This wasn’t some silly romance novel where he could charm Ezra away from his cushy life in Britain. Crowley wasn’t foolish. He knew he wasn’t particularly charming. He was lanky, had a funny walk, cursed too much, picked his nose, and could care less about proper dinner etiquette. </p><p>Even if Ezra shouldn’t be with Gabriel, that didn’t mean he should be with Crowley. </p><p><em>Tell him. You have to tell him.</em> </p><p>The voice inside his head (his <em>conscience</em>) was getting rather annoying and pushy. Normally, he could ignore it. Push it away and live a life free of guilt! Except the guilt would usually come crashing back to him one way or another. Still, if he tried really, really, really, really hard, he could ignore the guilt long enough to get absolutely plastered. Now, however, he couldn’t go five minutes without fearing a complete and total mental breakdown. </p><p>“Some guide you are,” Crowley scoffed. </p><p>“What was that?” </p><p>Shit, he needed to be careful with his aside comments. Ezra had ears like a, like a… what had great hearing? Ducks? Did ducks even have ears? They must. How else would they hear other ducks? Ducks didn’t go around quacking for the hell of it. Right?</p><p>“Crowley?” </p><p>Shit, yeah. Ezra. Had to deal with Ezra. “Talking to the camel. Bentley always thinks he’s smarter than everyone else. He’d get us all lost if I listened to him. Freddie’s pretty useless too. James is alright, but I still wouldn’t put my faith in him.” </p><p>Ezra quirked an eyebrow. “Didn’t you say if we were lost to follow the camels since they were homebodies and would eventually want to go back home?” </p><p>Shit. Why did he have to be such a good listener? Who listened to Crowley? “Well, yeah, but that’s to get home, not to a temple out in the middle of the Sahara.” </p><p>Please buy it. Please buy it. Please buy it. </p><p>Ezra shrugged. “If you say so.” </p><p>At least he wasn’t bringing up that absolute disaster of a date(?) at the oasis. God, Crowley should have kept his mouth shut and just ogled at Ezra like any normal person. He wasn’t kidding when he said the man was sex on legs. Perfectly pale skin, smooth and free of blemishes except for a few freckles dotted along his shoulders like flecks of gold. His hair, even after spending a week in the desert, was still perfectly fluffy and white. It almost looked like platinum and there was no way it was real. Except, he couldn’t seem to find any roots so it must have been. Oh, and Ezra’s eyes, his perfect, perfect eyes. They crinkled at the corners when he smiled. His whole face was rather expressive. Crowley could read him like a book. He loved seeing the spark of mischief when he was joking, or the look of utter fascination as he took in the sights and sounds. When he wrote, he always stuck out his tongue just a bit. It was magnificent and better than any show Crowley had ever seen. </p><p>Shit. How was he this far gone? It had been less than a month and he was already waxing poetic! What if this guy was a serial killer? What if he was a creep? He should not be falling in love with his client. Professional. He was a professional. Absolute professional. He definitely did not dream about making love— fucking (was that a better word?) under the stars with Ezra’s thick thighs wrapped around his waist and his voice screaming out in absolute bliss and pleasure. </p><p>The wind shifted. A weight settled in his chest. </p><p>“Shit.” </p><p>Ezra turned to him, a questioning expression on his face. </p><p>Crowley shoved the reigns into his hands. “Hobble the camels. I’ll be right back.” </p><p>“Crowley?” </p><p>He was running up the nearest sand dune. “Stay here!” He called back. </p><p>Thankfully, Ezra didn’t argue and did exactly as he was told. Crowley crested the hill. He didn’t need his binoculars to see what was coming, but he looked anyways. </p><p>“Shit!” He turned around and stumbled back down the hill. “Ezra, set up a tent, now!” </p><p>“What, why?” He still pulled his down from James’ back. </p><p>“Sandstorm. We need to get in now.” Crowley grabbed the tent from him and set it up. With the two of them, it went much faster. “Grab the food and water. I’ll stake it down. Hurry!” The wind was picking up, sand was pelting Crowley, leaving scratches across the exposed skin. He desperately tried to hammer down the tent, praying it wouldn’t fly away. They’d be screwed if that was the case. The storm was already on them. They wouldn’t have time to set up the other one. </p><p>“What about the camels?” </p><p>He grabbed his hand and yanked him inside. “They’re bred for this. They’ll be fine now get in here.” </p><p>Ezra continued to protest but let Crowley drag him inside. He secured the doors as best as he could, thankfully, keeping out most of the sand and wind. It was still howling outside, shaking the tent as if it were an animal trying to rip its way through the cloth walls. </p><p>They sat in silence for a few moments. Crowley didn’t know if Ezra was scared. He wouldn’t blame him if he was. </p><p>“Are you sure the camels will be alright?” Ezra’s voice was quiet, but Crowley could hear every word. It occurred to him how private this felt. Sure, they had been physically closer before, but this was different. This was them sharing a tent, enclosed, trapped, nowhere to go for who knows how long. </p><p>He huffed. “Your first sandstorm and you’re worried about the camels. How are you both a bastard and a bleeding heart?” </p><p>“I like animals more than I like people,” Ezra stated. “How long do storms like this usually take?” </p><p>Crowley shrugged. “Could be a few minutes. Could be a few hours. Are you comfortable?” </p><p>“I suppose I have to be. It’s not like we can do anything else for the time being.” </p><p>“Right you are.” Crowley went over to their food and water rations and dug around looking for— there it was. “Much of a wine drinker, angel?” </p><p>Ezra’s mouth fell open. “Have you been lugging that around with you this whole time?” </p><p>Crowley pulled to cork out with his teeth. Sometimes, having fangs did come in handy. “Yep. Not much else to do during a sandstorm. Although, I was saving it for if we found the amulet.” </p><p>He poured Ezra a glass and handed it to him. </p><p>“And what if we didn’t find the amulet.” </p><p>Despite his repeated attempts to control his hope, Ezra’s words still slashed at him. </p><p>“Then we drink it when I get you back to Cairo in one piece,” he lied. </p><p>Ezra smiled. “I can’t believe you. You are a sappy, dramatic man. You know that, right?” </p><p>“Ouch, angel. Please, I have a reputation to uphold.” </p><p>“It’s good wine,” he remarked, sipping it tastefully. </p><p>“You don’t have to flatter me,” Crowley said, repeating one of Ezra’s most common phrases. “I’m sure you’re used to all the best wines. French, Italian, I hear California’s got some good vineyards.” </p><p>“Wine can be good, no matter the price. Some of the best wine I’ve had was cheaper stuff that most upper-class wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole.” He stared at his glass; brow furrowed. “Why would you be so desperate to portray wealth and status that you’d purposefully miss out on wonderful experiences because they didn’t cost enough?” </p><p>Crowley shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.” He liked this side of Ezra, the side that was down to earth, and recognized that sometimes, a good time did not have to cost thousands of pounds. Of course, that didn’t mean Ezra didn’t have standards. He just had the right sort of standards. </p><p>“Gabriel definitely likes high price tags. I think he feels like it shows he’s someone to be taken seriously.” </p><p>Gabriel sounded too much like Crowley’s own father, too obsessed with status to see what was right in front of him. </p><p>“If he were here right now,” Ezra snorted into his glass, “he’d be most disappointed.” </p><p>Crowley looked up. He was going to say something very stupid. He knew that. He should change the subject. Start quoting Shakespeare. Ask Ezra about his favorite Bronte sister. Something else that wouldn’t rip their relationship apart. </p><p>“Why are you with a guy that sounds like such a twat?” Shit, his tongue, apparently, did not listen to his brain. </p><p>Ezra looked up at him. “Excuse me?” He sounded pissed. </p><p>Crowley should backtrack. He should apologize. He should change the subject. Which of Jane Austen’s works is the best?</p><p>“Every time you mention him it sounds like he’s tearing you down. Why would you be with someone who belittles you constantly?” </p><p>“He does not belittle me constantly!” Ezra’s eyes were stormy. </p><p>Crowley was not a smart man. He did not back down. “Really? Because every time you talk about him, it’s a complaint. Why would you be with someone who you have yet to say anything nice about?” He was shouting now. He didn’t understand why he was getting so angry. Ezra was an adult. He could make his own decisions. He didn’t need Crowley to tell him how to run his life. </p><p>“You don’t get to talk to me like that!” Ezra stood up. Normally, the man was not intimidating. He was soft, he smiled, he wiggled when he was happy. Now, however, Crowley was starting to think Ezra could take him in a fight and possibly win. </p><p>“My relationship with Gabriel is none of your business!” </p><p>“You sure as hell have made it my business.” </p><p>“I’ve only known you for less than a month. Why would you think you have the right to critique me and my choices? You’ve never met Gabriel and you’re basing your judgments off of some vague remarks.” </p><p>“Vague remarks? You constantly talk down about yourself and all your ‘remarks’ highlight how much control he has over you. It isn’t healthy, Ezra.” </p><p>“Like you’re a paragon for healthy behaviors.” </p><p>“At least I’m not with some asshole who doesn’t seem to love me, or at least like me.” </p><p>Ezra opened his mouth, but there were tears in his eyes. He let out a choked sound and turned around. </p><p>Crowley knew he had pushed too far. He wanted Ezra to be happy and it was clear Gabriel wasn’t making him happy. He needed to fix this. He couldn’t afford to go another month and a half with this hanging over them. </p><p>He took a deep breath and forced his brain and his mouth to come to an agreement; no more critiquing Gabriel. Maybe, just maybe, after they got back to Cairo, when they knew each other a bit better, he’d be able to convince Ezra to leave. They could go off together. They could go anywhere they want. </p><p>
  <em>No, you can’t. You’re stuck here.</em>
</p><p>Erm, well, Ezra could go anywhere he wanted. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” he said, hoping it sounded sincere enough. “Look,” he sighed and looked around. “Look, my parents did not have a great marriage. It’s made me sensitive to other people’s relationship problems.” </p><p>“We barely know each other.” It sounded like Ezra was trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince Crowley. </p><p>“I know, but we’ve also spent a lot of time together. I’d like to think we’re friends.” </p><p>
  <em>I wish we were more than friends.</em>
</p><p>“You’re right. I don’t know much about you or your relationship, but is it so bad that I want you to be happy?”</p><p>Ezra turned to him; his eyes still red with tears. “I haven’t represented Gabriel fairly. He didn’t want me to come. He was afraid I’d get hurt, or worse. I never had the chance to really fix things with him before I left.” </p><p>He sat back down. “Things have been hard these past few months. With the election and constant pressure, our relationship hasn’t been the best. That doesn’t mean it’s not good. No one is perfect, no matter how hard we try to be.” </p><p>Damn, he couldn’t argue with that. “As long as you’re happy, angel.”</p><p>Ezra didn’t respond. Tonight, Crowley would have to think up a plan to actually get Ezra away from Gabriel and not just blurt out his feelings at random. He could do this. </p><p>Wait a second, tonight? Shit! The sandstorm didn’t appear to be letting up and he could feel night coming. He would be stuck in the tent with Ezra. He had to do something. He couldn’t leave. Ezra couldn’t leave. </p><p>“More wine?” He filled Ezra’s glass almost to the brim. </p><p>“Dear, are you trying to get me drunk?” Ezra still sipped from the glass. </p><p>
  <em>I’m trying to get you to fall asleep.</em>
</p><p>“Yeah, I don’t want to be the only one drunk tonight.” Crowley did not fill up his own cup. Instead, he kept pouring Ezra’s, anxiety pounding through his body. He wanted to get up and run around, run the energy off. He couldn’t with the sandstorm still raging. Night was coming. Should he sing a lullaby or something? How do you get someone to fall asleep?</p><p>With minutes to spare, Ezra’s eyes drooped closed and he lay down on the ground. Soft snores filled the tent and Crowley breathed a sigh of relief. Now, hopefully, his tent-mate would stay asleep.</p><p>--------<br/>Ezra tilted his head back and let out a breathy moan. He was on his hands and knees, completely naked. The cold desert night bit at his skin, but he still felt like he was on fire. His heart was pounding. Sweat beading down his back, pooling at his tail bone. </p><p>“Oh,” he moaned again. Hands were gripping his waist, the nails biting into the flesh, and leaving marks. They were rough, the callouses catching on his skin as his partner pulled him back. </p><p>“Oh!” There was a snap of the hips and Ezra was being filled so deliciously. The stretch around a well-endowed cock was one he missed dearly. Behind him, he was fucking into him with reckless abandon, going deeper and deeper; pounding him into the sand. </p><p>Ezra himself was a moaning, wanton mess, making incoherent words as he slipped onto his elbows. </p><p>“Yes, yes, please!” Begging was not something he did often, but he wanted more. He needed more. He needed to feel surrounded by him. Needed to feel connected to him. </p><p>He leaned over, now back to chest, and started kissing and biting at Ezra’s neck. Those fangs felt so wonderful. </p><p>“Yes, Crowley!” He moaned, louder and lewder than before. </p><p>“That’s it, angel. You feel so good.” Crowley’s voice was deep, gravely. He was panting in Ezra’s ear, one hand still on his hip with a bruising grip. </p><p>“Please, Crowley. I need—”</p><p>Crowley turned his face and kissed him deeply, silencing him with his tongue. Ezra moaned. It was too much. The sand. The sand was starting to surround them, envelop them. He was sinking into it and would be swallowed up forever. </p><p>Crowley’s hips were snapping against him; faster, harder. His eyes were slit like a snake’s. Golden irises enchanting him. </p><p>Crowley broke the kiss and unhinged his jaw. Then, he lunged at Ezra. </p><p>Ezra’s eyes flew open with a cry. His breathing was heavy. It was dark out, and the winds had died down. </p><p>“Just a dream.” He murmured, though his own erection was pressing against his trousers. </p><p>Shame welled up in him. Was it considered cheating to have a sex dream with someone who was definitely not your fiancé?</p><p>It was just a dream. Just a dream. He blinked a few times, his eyes adjusting to the dark. He had to get himself under control. He would. No more flirting, no more friendly banter. Just respectful and polite small-talk. </p><p>He closed his eyes and started to drift off again when he heard hissing. He opened them to see the largest snake he had ever seen hovering over him. It had to still be a dream. After all, no snakes in Egypt were the size of men. </p><p>He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep once more. </p><p>--------<br/>Ezra glanced at Crowley once more as they loaded up the camels. Upon waking this morning, shame hit him like a ton of bricks. He had had a sex dream. About Crowley! While they were sharing a tent! Crowley wasn’t acting like anything had changed between them. Perhaps he hadn’t heard anything? </p><p>Still, best be sure. “Um, Crowley,” he started, nerves firing up his stomach in a way that made him want to hunch over. </p><p>“Yeah?” Crowley seemed very tired. He wasn’t moving with his usual energy and his face seemed worn and haggard. </p><p>“Did I keep you up last night? I know I sometimes talk in my sleep and I just wanted to be sure—”</p><p>“You didn’t keep me up last night.” </p><p>Ezra bit his lip and nodded. Somehow, he felt that wasn’t the end of the conversation. Something had happened last night. Why would Crowley hide it from him? Unless he knew the sex dream was about himself and didn’t want to let Ezra down. Perhaps pretending was a better solution than confronting it. Hopefully, there would be no more sandstorms or reasons to share a tent. Ezra had to get a grip on himself. How was he supposed to face Gabriel after all that had happened? </p><p>He would never cheat on the man, would never even dream of it. And yet, wasn’t he doing just that? He was looking at another man, fantasizing about another man, dreaming about another man. Everything felt complicated and his head was starting to hurt thinking through the logistics over and over again. </p><p>“Angel.” He put his hand on Ezra’s elbow, causing him to jump. “Are you alright?” </p><p>Ezra shook himself out of his funk and smiled. “Yes, my dear. I am afraid we both had too much to drink last night. You look like death run over and I feel like death run over.” He tried to joke. </p><p>Crowley smiled at him, but it wasn’t with his normal energy. “Yeah, probably not a good idea to drink a full bottle of wine when we have to hike again today.” </p><p>He turned and started leading the camels through the desert. Ezra watched him, his mind still turning over thoughts and arguments and excuses. Things were getting confusing, and he needed to figure them out before he went back to his old life. </p><p>He started walking. That was the ultimate question, though. After everything that had happened, could he go back to his old life? Could he go back to boring political dinners and Gabriel talking endlessly about business and mergers and elections? Could he go back to sitting around the house all day doing nothing until Gabriel needed him for something? Could he go back to his life after doing all of this? </p><p>Somehow he didn’t think so.</p>
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Camel Care and Medical School</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sooo..... Crowley is definitely hiding something. I wonder how many of you caught it earlier? Thanks for your comments, shares, kudos, and reads! Hope you enjoy this chapter.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Crowley was right, the trip was getting more difficult. </p><p>“Why does the sand seem especially testy today?” Ezra asked as he slid down a sand dune for what felt like the hundredth time. </p><p>Crowley laughed, still managing to scale the peaks with ease. “The wind’s different out here. It makes things less stable.” </p><p>“Well, I don’t like it!” He huffed as he finally managed to get up and over the crest. “Goodness, who knew the lack of mountains wouldn’t mean an easy walk.”</p><p>Crowley grabbed his elbow and hauled him up to a standing position. “You’re still doing okay. Honestly, I’m surprised we don’t have to go slower.” </p><p>Ezra smiled at him. He was better now about accepting Crowley’s compliments at face value instead of arguing. He never attempted to bring up the night of the sandstorm again, but he and Crowley had seemed to come to an agreement. Ezra didn’t mention Gabriel nearly as much as he used to and Crowley didn’t make any snide comments about the man. Despite this, Ezra wasn’t feeling as happy as in the beginning. He still felt like he was walking on eggshells, tiptoeing around Crowley and his own feelings. He had to figure something out. He couldn’t go on like this. He wanted… he wanted… Blast, he didn’t know what he wanted! But he knew it wasn’t this. </p><p>“Shit!” Crowley’s hand disappeared from his elbow. </p><p>“Crowley?” Ezra looked over to see the man rolling down the dune, landing in a twisted heap on the ground. </p><p>He groaned with pain and attempted to roll over to his stomach and push himself up. </p><p>“Don’t move!” Ezra carefully slid down the dune to where he was laying. “I need to make sure you aren’t hurt.” </p><p>“I’m fine, angel,” Crowley said, batting away Ezra’s hand. He pushed himself up to his feet. He didn’t make a sound but Ezra could see pain flash across his face. </p><p>“Crowley, please, let me check it out. You could be seriously injured.” He pushed Crowly back against the dune. “Now, what hurts.” </p><p>“Nothing.” </p><p>Ezra pinched him. </p><p>“Ow! What was that for?” </p><p>“For lying to me. Now, what hurts? Don’t make me pinch you again.” </p><p>Crowley crossed his arms and huffed. “Left ankle.” </p><p>He nodded and went to take off the (frankly) ridiculous thigh-high boots Crowley insisted on wearing. </p><p>It had been years since he had ever attempted to practice medicine. Other than his pathetic attempts to patch Crowley up when they first met, the last time he had done any sort of healing was back in university when he was helping out a professor at his practice. Even then, most of his days were spent putting bandages on children and telling patients to ice their injuries. </p><p>“It’s sprained,” he said, taking the ankle in his hand and examining it. “It’s not broken though.” </p><p>“Small miracles,” Crowley huffed. “God, we really can’t afford to take a day off right now.” </p><p>Ezra went over to Bentley and got the camel to stay still long enough to grab his medical kit. “Why not? Isn’t this why you planned an extra month? Other than the sand storm and the oasis, we haven’t been taking breaks and you keep saying we’re ahead of schedule.” </p><p>“It’s not the timing that’s the problem, it’s the location. It’s too volatile here. We can’t stay here for long.” </p><p>“You can’t walk on this foot. You’ll injure it more and then we’ll really be in trouble.” He started bandaging it. He wished they had some ice, it would help with the swelling, but there was nothing he could do about their current situation. He handed Crowley some aspirin. “It’ll help with the pain and the swelling. We need to keep it elevated and keep you off it for at least three days.” </p><p>“No.” Crowley shook his head. “We shouldn’t even be staying here for a few hours. We cannot afford to risk it for three days.” </p><p>Ezra understood that Crowley knew the desert better than anyone. He trusted that he was telling the truth. He still couldn’t ignore the fact that he was injured and needed to rest it. </p><p>He thought of ways That would fit both of their needs. His eyes landed on the camels. </p><p>“You can ride the camels, can’t you?” He asked. James had come up to him and was chewing on his hair, something the camel normally did when he was bored. </p><p>“Um, yeah, but—”</p><p>Ezra stood up. “But nothing. Which one do you want to ride?” </p><p>“Ezra—”</p><p>He turned to him. “Look, I trust you and I am listening to you. We have to get out of here. But with that ankle, you won’t go very far very fast and it’ll get worse. I trust you and your expertise, now it’s your turn to trust me. Which camel do you want to ride?” </p><p>Crowley sighed. “You understand that until my ankle heals, though, you’ll have to do practically everything, including leading them through the desert.” </p><p>“It’s not going to change whether you’re on the ground or up there,” Ezra said, straightening up. “Besides, you won’t be asleep I suspect, so just tell me which way to go and I’ll walk until you tell me to turn. Now, answer the question.” </p><p>Crowley glanced at the camels who were milling about. “Bentley,” he sighed. “You’ll have to unload some of his load, though. You can spread some of it out to James and Freddie, but you’ll have to carry at least a portion of it. </p><p>Oh good, that was going to make things much harder for him. Still, he didn’t want to voice this concern to Crowley. He needed the man to trust him. He nodded and pulled Bentley over to him and made quick work of freeing him from his burden. He loaded up James and Freddie and put on a pack to carry the medical supplies and some food. </p><p>“Right, let’s get you situated.” He hooked one of Crowley’s arm over his shoulder and helped him to his feet. They hobbled over to Bentley, who was sitting patiently on the ground. He got Crowley secured on the saddle and the fashioned a little sling that would keep the foot slightly elevated. </p><p>“I don’t know how I’m going to ride her like this,” he said, grimacing as Ezra lifted the foot into the sling.</p><p>“Just don’t injure yourself more and we’ll be good.” He clicked his tongue and Bentley stood up. He made sure to keep his hands on Crowley to help balance and secure him as Bentley struggled to his feet. He led James and Freddie to Bentley and secured them all in a line. </p><p>“Wow, you are getting really good at this,” Crowley said as they started up the dune. “What do you even need me for?” </p><p>“To figure out where we’re going,” Ezra said. </p><p>“Left,” Crowley answered. </p><p>He nodded and led the camels as carefully as he could down the dune.  He couldn’t help the sense of pride that welled up inside his chest at Crowley’s praise. He did feel he was doing a lot better than before. Day One Ezra would have never been able to unload and load the camels before taking charge and leading them through the desert. It was growth, a sort of growth he hadn’t felt in a long time. </p><p>“If you don’t mind me asking,” Crowley said, “why aren’t you a doctor? You really took charge back there and didn’t even blink at the treatment. The medical field would be a much better place if you were there.” </p><p>Ezra blushed, but shame settled in his stomach as he thought of his past failures. He didn’t have to tell Crowley anything. Crowley was not entitled to his entire life story and he didn’t deserve to know anything. But they were friends and Ezra was desperate for some support. Gabriel always heralded his dropping out of medical school as his greatest failure. Madam Tracy always assured him it wasn’t. Still, he never felt fully at ease with her proclamations. Perhaps it had been because she was so happy when he got into medical school and he never could shake the feeling that he had let her down. </p><p>Crowley, on the other hand, was different. He was of a different relationship to Ezra and had only met him post-medical school. His judgments, or lack thereof, would be different from Madam Tracy’s. </p><p>“You don’t have to say if you don’t want to,” Crowley said. </p><p>“No, no, I do.” Ezra took a deep breath. “I suppose the biggest reason why I dropped out was because I knew I would always be a failure.” There, he had said it, out loud and in the open. </p><p>“What, like you couldn’t keep up with the coursework or something?” </p><p>He shook his head. “No, the coursework was fine, perhaps too easy for me. The realization that I would never be perfect. That was what really did me in.” </p><p>Crowley didn’t say anything. Ezra was glad, it gave him a chance to think about his words and put them into perspective. </p><p>“The thing about medicine is, no matter how good you are, no matter how much you know, there will always be people you can’t save. It didn’t matter if I memorized the entire text-book or worked at the best hospitals. I realized that I would never be able to save everyone. There would come a time when I wouldn’t have the right tools, or I would get to a patient too late, or I might misdiagnose them.”</p><p>“And these aren’t things that can be avoided,” He hurried to add. “I’m human and I don’t know everything. But still, the thought that someday, no matter how hard I tried, no matter how much I did, I wouldn’t be able to save someone, it was too much and I ended up dropping out.” </p><p>He glanced back at Crowley, who’s face was stony. Sometimes, he wished he would take the glasses off. It would be so much easier to read his expressions. </p><p>Finally, Crowley spoke. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a nobler reason to drop out of medical school.” </p><p>Ezra furrowed his brow. “I’m sorry?” </p><p>“You literally dropped out because you couldn’t save everyone. That’s a pretty noble thing to do, in my opinion. Plus, you seem to recognize your limits. Too many people think they can play God and come out on top every time. That’s not how the world works.” His voice was slightly bitter at the end. He decided not to push, though. He had learned early on that it was near impossible to get Crowley to talk about anything. However, since he was opening up, maybe it would convince Crowley to trust him and talk about his past. </p><p>The question he asked at the oasis still rang in the back of his mind. He had pieced together that something had happened to Crowley a while ago, and that something was still haunting him to this day, but he couldn’t piece together exactly what it was. He was glad that Crowley supported his decision and even thought him noble for making that choice. He never felt his decision had been fully accepted by any of his friends back home. He knew now it was the right decision for him. With Crowley’s acceptance, he was never going to doubt or question his decision again. </p><p> </p><p>Ezra wanted to walk a little longer, but Crowley was adamant they get camp set up before night fell. </p><p>“You’ll have to do it all yourself, angel. You need more time, plus I want off this bloody camel,” Crowley growled. </p><p>“I know. We can share a tent though.” </p><p>Crowley went white. “No, no sharing. It’s fine.” </p><p>Ezra felt shame rise up once more. Of course, Crowley would be uncomfortable with him in the same tent after what happened during the sandstorm. He was being a perfect gentleman not mentioning it. Ezra shouldn’t push his luck. </p><p>“Alright, my dear.” He stopped the camels and got the camp set up for the night. It did take longer than normal and he was more tired than ever. </p><p>“Thanks, angel. For everything,” Crowley said as Ezra got him situated by the fire with his leg still elevated. </p><p>“It’s my pleasure, my dear.” He finally sat down, his legs and arms aching. </p><p>Bentley came over and nudged Crowley. </p><p>“Oi, don’t think you’re getting extra food for today. You know I weigh less than most of those packs.” </p><p>Bentley nudged him once more but hobbled over to where Freddie and James were standing. Crowley sighed and there was sadness etched in his face. </p><p>“What’s wrong?” Ezra asked, handing him his food. </p><p>“This’ll probably be my last trip with those three.” </p><p>“Really?” Ezra glanced back at the camels. “Why? Are you seriously injured? Should we turn back?”</p><p>Crowley shook his head. “No, I’m not injured. It’s the camels.” </p><p>“Oh, poor dears, are they working too hard? We can go slower if we need to.” Ezra glanced over at them once more, trying to see if there were any injuries he could see. He didn’t have much experience in veterinarian medicine, but he could probably do something. </p><p>“They’re getting a little too old to keep doing these trips. Bentley especially. I’ve had him since I came to Egypt nearly five years ago. I wanted to do one last trip with them, that was actually what I was planning when you came along.” </p><p>“Oh, is that why you didn’t want to take me out here?” Ezra felt guilty once more. Crowley probably had something really special planned for his last trip with his camels and, like always, he ruined something so special and beautiful. </p><p>“That and I’ve taken out enough tourists to know most of them are not even half as competent as you.” He sighed but had a small smile on his lips. “I’m glad I’m doing this with them. One last adventure for them and they got to meet you.” </p><p>“What happens after the camels retire?” He didn’t know much about camel care, but he did know when horses were retired, they were sometimes killed because the money needed to keep them alive didn’t justify the cost.</p><p>“I found a great little place on the outskirts of Cairo. This place is like camel heaven. They get to run around, play, live their best camel lives for the rest of their life. The lady who runs it is a real animal rights activist and refuses to kill any camels unless it’s to end their suffering.” </p><p>“I had no idea camel retirement homes were a thing,” Ezra said. He had never seen Crowley so happy. </p><p>“Yeah. That’s what you’re money’s going towards. With the two hundred bucks, I’ll be able to afford almost ten years worth of camel care.” </p><p>“Oh, I had no idea you were using the money for them.” This made him swoon. Not only was Crowley a charming man, but he was also so dedicated to his animal companions. He really was perfect (even with his habit of picking his nose).</p><p>Crowley shrugged. “Yeah, I don’t need a lot and I make decent money working for Bee, so I spend as much as I can on my camels. For a while, there, they were my only companions.” </p><p>Ezra wanted to ask him more. He was so close to getting the complete mystery of Crowley solved. </p><p>“Angel, can you help me into my tent. I want to get some sleep,” Crowley said. </p><p>Ezra nodded. “One of these days,” he said, helping Crowley off the stool and into the tent. “I want us to stay up and look at the stars.” </p><p>“What is it with you and stars?” He asked, laying down and letting Ezra elevate his leg once more. He checked the bandages and the bruising. It didn’t seem that bad. Hopefully, Crowley would be able to walk on it in a few days. </p><p>“You can’t really see them in the UK. It’s too cloudy and London is too bright. We’re miles away from civilization and there isn’t a cloud in the sky.”</p><p>“You can stay up and look at them,” Crowley said. </p><p>“I know, but I wouldn’t know what I was looking at. Plus, if we were both up, we could sleep in the next day to fully recover.” </p><p>Crowley sighed. “I’ll think about it. Good night, angel.” </p><p>Ezra wanted to continue to press his case, to convince Crowley to stay up with him and look at the stars, but he closed his mouth, nodded, and left the tent. </p><p>He looked up at the sky to see the first stars of the night appearing against the dusky blue. Crowley was right, he could stay up and look at them himself. He glanced back at the tent, put out the fire, and went into his own tent. He didn’t want to be tired for tomorrow. </p><p>Maybe one day, they would be able to look at the stars together.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I have read all of your comments and will respond to them tomorrow. I just got overwhelmed this week with things to do. But don't worry! I do read them all and will answer them all! have a great weekend everybody.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Crowley glared at his ankle. He knew it would heal quickly. That didn’t mean he knew how to explain to Ezra what exactly had happened. One of the best things about this stupid curse was now one of the worst things. Though, the fact that his ankle was healed meant he wouldn’t have to ride on Bentley in that awkward position Ezra had put him in yesterday. Speaking of Ezra…</p><p>“Fuck.” He dragged a hand down his face. He couldn’t ignore it anymore, he was in love with the man. He wasn’t just in love with the man, he was infatuated with him. Ezra listened to him. He laughed at his jokes. He respected him. More importantly, he didn’t judge him. </p><p>“It would never work,” he told himself. It was an argument he had again and again. They were too different. More importantly, Crowley couldn’t leave Egypt. At least, he didn’t think he could leave Egypt. Maybe if he stayed within the confines of ancient Egypt he could go to like, Libya or something. But he couldn’t travel the world, which is something Ezra so clearly wanted to do. </p><p>He looked back down at his ankle and scowled. “How am I supposed to deal with this?”</p><p>According to his senses, they were a little less than a week away from the temple. Then they were about three weeks to the nearest town where they would take a train back to Cairo. Surely he could handle being around Ezra for another month? Surely he wouldn’t make that much of a fool out of himself? </p><p>How was he going to explain the ankle? He could always pretend it was still injured. Ezra would want to check on it though and would be able to tell right away he was healed. </p><p>Maybe if he pretended like everything was normal, Ezra wouldn’t question it. Yeah, that plan was definitely not going to backfire in any way. There was no way Ezra, who went to medical school and still seemed to know about medical practices, would question why a horribly sprained ankle would heal in less than a day. </p><p>Crowley got up, got dressed, and walked outside as confidently as he could. </p><p>“Crowley!” Ezra ran up to him. “You shouldn’t be walking around on your ankle.” </p><p>“It’s fine, angel. Healed right up.” He made a show of hopping on the previously injured leg. </p><p>“I don’t believe you,” Ezra scowled at him and tugged him over to the stool. He manhandled the boot off and studied the offending appendage. </p><p>“I don’t believe it,” he said, running his fingers over the now healed ankle. </p><p>Crowley's skin burned with the gentle touch and he shivered. </p><p>“It should have taken at least a week to fully heal. How is this possible?” </p><p>Crowley shrugged. “I’ve always been a fast healer.” He lied. “I tried to tell you yesterday it was no big deal but you insisted.” </p><p>It had, in fact, been a big deal. Crowley knew he wouldn’t have been able to walk on it and was glad Ezra had taken charge. </p><p>Ezra put down his ankle, brow still furrowed in confusion. Without thinking, Crowley reached up and pressed his finger to the little furrow. </p><p>Ezra’s head snapped up. “What on Earth are you doing?” </p><p>“You’re too pretty to be looking so angry. Count your blessings, angel. The trip would have taken a lot longer if I had been out of commission. As is, I think we’re about a week away from the temple.” He stood up and went to load up the camels. </p><p>“Yes, about that,” Ezra said. </p><p>“What? No longer want to go to the temple.” It wasn’t like Crowley could really argue with him. Out of the two of them, Ezra definitely knew more about the Amulet than he did, despite hunting for it for years. </p><p>“No, I still think it’s the right place to look. I was wondering if you had calculated in time to explore it.” </p><p>Crowley nodded. “Yup. We’re not going straight back to Cairo. We’re actually going to a small town named Suef and taking a train back up to Cairo. This will leave us with about a week to explore the temple. Think that’s going to be enough?” </p><p>Ezra looked relieved and nodded. “Yes, yes that should be fine. Maybe if we’re feeling up to it, two weeks? I’m not sure how complex the inner workings of the temple will be.”</p><p>Crowley smiled at him. He would give Ezra the moon if he asked. Especially when he looked so nervous to ask in the first place. “Sure thing, angel. Anything you want. Shall we?” </p><p>Ezra didn’t mention his ankle again, thank the gods. Crowley knew he couldn’t hide forever. He had to tell Ezra, and he would. He was more sure now than he had ever been. He would tell Ezra everything. </p><p>Before, he convinced himself not to because he didn’t want to scare him off. Now, he knew if there was any chance of leaving Ezra with no regrets, he would have to tell him. He remembered the relief that seemed to seep out of Ezra when he admitted why he dropped out of medical school. He wanted something like that. For years he had been living with this curse slowly eating away at his soul. This was his last chance at redemption, last chance to make things right. Even if the Amulet of Isis wasn’t there, even if it didn’t exist, he knew telling Ezra would help him. Even if Ezra turned from him in disgust. Even if he could no longer look at him with that soft look in his eyes. This was Crowley’s last chance to make things right. After Ezra left, he would be on his own once more. But maybe, just maybe, he’d be able to live with himself at least a little bit more. </p><p>oOoOoOo</p><p>“I’m telling you, angle, my ankle is fine,” Crowley argued as Ezra stopped the camels and began to set up camp. </p><p>Ezra was grateful Crowley insisted he help set up and take down camp every night. It made him much more efficient. “I’m not convinced. Besides, you said we were out of the most dangerous part. Surely our timeline won’t hurt if we stop a few hours early so you can rest up.” </p><p>Crowley’s ankle healing had been no less than miraculous. Ezra was honestly surprised it wasn’t broken when he first looked at it. Now it showed no signs of ever being injured. It wasn’t even bruised! He could not, for the life of him, explain what had happened. It was definitely sprained, not twisted, or slightly injured. Crowley shouldn’t be able to walk, much less keep his balance on uneven terrain for twenty miles. </p><p>“I’m fine, Ezra,” Crowley growled as Ezra set up his little stool and helped him sit down, propping up his ankle. </p><p>“No arguing with me. I can’t have you injured so close to our final leg. Is it really only a week away?” he said. </p><p>He could hardly believe it was so close. All those months planning and researching and in less than a week, he would be at the Temple of Isis. He had left London, flown in an airplane, walked across the desert, and even led the camel caravan at one point. Oh, this adventure was just what he needed. Now that he had a taste for it, his mind was racing with other places they could go. He had heard Wu Zetian had a beautiful crown that had gone missing centuries ago. He had never been to China and would love to see a country whose history could be traced back thousands of years. </p><p>And then there were other places in the world, so full of mystery and excitement. Burma probably had some fun things, Tinseltown could be a different sort of adventure. Or the jungles of the Amazon. Or the outback of Australia. There were so many things to discover, so many things to see. When he got back to London, he would need to make a list and start talking with Ms. Young about potential next books. </p><p>“Yeah. This trip is actually going pretty smoothly. We’ll have you back to Cairo in about a month. Can you believe that?” </p><p>Ezra’s smile dropped. Right, he would have to leave Cairo. More importantly, he would have to leave Crowley. He didn’t know if the man would want to come with him to China or Burma or New Orleans or wherever he ended up. </p><p>Also, Gabriel was someone he had to deal with. </p><p>Yes, the weeks he had spent away from his fiancé had cast considerable light on the whole affair. Now that he was out here, in the desert, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be Gabriel’s fiancé. Had he ever wanted to be his fiancé? He had to deal with this thought process eventually. He could not, in good faith, marry a man while doubts were so present in his mind. </p><p>But he had spent so long with Gabriel. Besides, who else was he going to marry? It wasn’t like he had suitors clamoring for his attention. There was Crowley, of course. But he didn’t know if Crowley wanted to leave Egypt and travel around with him. Why would he risk the stability he had with Gabriel for the slight chance that Crowley might find him marginally attractive? And what if Crowley did find him attractive but only wanted to be with him for one night? </p><p>Crowley cleared his throat. Ezra looked up to see him standing with his hand stretched out. </p><p>“You’re supposed to be resting,” Ezra said. </p><p>“You look like a kicked puppy. Sorry angel, the adventure has to end at some point. But that’s okay, that doesn’t mean you can’t still have another one.” He grabbed Ezra’s hand and pulled him out of the stool. </p><p>“What are you doing?” He asked. </p><p>Crowley smiled at him and led him to the top of a surprisingly flat and stable sand dune. The terrain had been getting rockier for the past week. There were actually spots of ground today that didn’t shift beneath Ezra’s feet. </p><p>“Best view in all of Africa,” Crowley said once they reached the top. The sight took Ezra’s breath away. Spread out before them, like a never-ending sea of gold, was the Sahara. They were higher than most of the dunes and hills. He could see the camels below, hobbling around, nipping at each other like children. </p><p>“It’s beautiful. I know I say this about every view you show me, but this is spectacular, Crowley,” he whispered. He pulled out his notebook and began to sketch the scene in front of him. </p><p>“An artist and a wordsmith, Shakespeare would be impressed,” Crowley said, sitting down beside him. </p><p>Ezra glanced over at him. In this light, Crowley also appeared to glow. He could just make out the yellow of his irises. </p><p>“Hold still for a moment,” Ezra said, turning to a new page and beginning to sketch Crowley’s profile. </p><p>“Why are you sketching me?” </p><p>“Because you’re handsome and the readers need something to swoon at,” Ezra said. </p><p>“Ah, I’m not that handsome. Gangly and awkward to look at, sure. But handsome? I don’t think so.” </p><p>“I believe you are not the correct person to judge your looks.” </p><p>“Why’s that?” </p><p>“Because beauty is in the eye of the beholder. When we are in our own bodies, we see every flaw, every wrinkle, and dimple. We notice that our noses are not in the center of our face, or our eyes are slightly too far apart. We have the time to study ourselves and notice every single flaw we have. Others, however, others don’t have a lifetime to study us. And why would they? Instead, if they like you, they notice your beauty. If they don’t like you, they notice your flaws. Therefore, if someone says you’re handsome, you can assume they not only like you but like you enough to look past the little things you obsess over.” </p><p>He didn’t know if he was speaking these words to himself, or to Crowley. Somehow, he felt they were pertinent to both of their situations. He put the finishing touches on the portrait. </p><p>“There, what do you think?” He held it up to him. </p><p>Crowley didn’t say anything for a long time. Finally, he tore his eyes away from it. For a second, Ezra feared he had offended him somehow. Then he saw Crowley shift his glasses to wipe his eyes. </p><p>“That’s really nice. Sounds stupid, like I’m complimenting myself. But you did a really good job.” He turned back to him, smiling. </p><p>“Thank you. Would you like it?” </p><p>Crowley shook his head. “Nah, you can keep it; to remember me by.” </p><p>Ezra's smile dropped and he felt his stomach doing something funny. They were going to be leaving each other soon. The past month had gone by so fast, Ezra was certain the next month would go by just as fast. He wished he could stay out here, under the endless sky forever. These past few weeks with Crowley had been magical. He had been scared, uncomfortable, worried, stressed, and a whole host of other negative emotions. And yet, he wouldn’t trade any of them for any other experience. </p><p>Crowley stood up and offered Ezra his hand once more. </p><p>“Leaving already?” Ezra asked, disappointed. He had hoped to watch the sunset from up here. It would have been truly magical. </p><p>“Nope,” Crowley pulled him to his feet. “I want to dance with you.” </p><p>“What? No, I don’t dance,” Ezra stuttered as Crowley guided one of his arms to his shoulder. He then placed his own hand on Ezra’s hip and began rocking them back and forth. </p><p>“Really? You don’t dance?” He quirked an eyebrow.</p><p>“Well, what I mean is, that is to say, I don’t dance very well. I might step on your toes.” </p><p>“Angel, Freddie steps on my toes at least three times a day. You do not weigh as much as a camel. I’ll be fine.” </p><p>“There’s no music.” </p><p>“Then I’ll sing.” And sing he did. His voice was soft and low, gentle in Ezra’s ear as they swayed to the music that seemed to surround them. Crowley had such a beautiful voice, like an angel. He could probably be a professional with his talents. </p><p>He didn’t recognize the song. Gabriel didn’t like listening to modern music. He felt it wasn’t classy enough. Ezra himself loved the old composers, but he would be remiss to say he didn’t occasionally want to listen to some of the new jazz that had cropped up in America. </p><p>“How are you so perfect?” Ezra asked, letting Crowley guide him until they were touching completely. </p><p>He felt Crowley freeze, but he recovered quickly enough. “No one’s perfect. It’s not good to be put on a pedestal. One day, I’ll disappoint you.” </p><p>He looked up at him and put his hand on his cheek. “I know that. What I want to know, is if you understand that your flaws do not make you any less deserving of a human being. There is so much good in you, Crowley.” </p><p>“Do you understand that?” Crowley countered. There was no bite in his voice, just the gentle press of compassion. </p><p>Ezra smiled and nodded. “Yes. I understand that I deserve to be happy. I deserve to find love and to feel loved. Just like you.” </p><p>Crowley grinned and spun him around, causing them both to laugh. “Glad we’re on the same page.” </p><p>He dipped Ezra low, low enough that his foot came off the ground to counterbalance. He was staring into Crowley’s eyes. Their faces were so close to one another. He could feel Crowley’s breath on his skin, smell his sweat and musk, feel his heart pounding against his own. Crowley was going to kiss him. </p><p>And Ezra didn’t mind one bit. </p><p>“Shit!” </p><p>Crowley let go of him and dropped him to the ground. Ezra let out a yelp as he landed quite painfully on a rather large rock. </p><p>“Crowley?” He pushed himself up to see the man scrambling down the hill back towards the tents. It was getting dark out. He hadn’t realized how late it had gotten. </p><p>Still, he felt like he was owed an explanation. Why did Crowley leave so suddenly? What was that whole dancing thing about? </p><p>“Crowley, what’s wrong?” He knew what was wrong. There were tears in his eyes because he had been rejected. He wanted Crowley to say it, though. He wanted him to say it out loud so he could move on from his life once and for all without being trapped in this limbo. </p><p>Crowley’s body jerked and he stumbled into the tent. “I really need to get to bed, Ezra.” </p><p>That was worrying. He never called him by his real name. </p><p>“Why, though? We don’t have to go to bed as soon as the stars come out!” </p><p>“Yes, I do. You’re welcome to stay up, but I’m going to bed. Good night.” He practically tore through the flaps of his tent. </p><p>“Crowley, if this is about what happened up on the ridge,” or rather what didn’t happen, “we need to talk about it. You can’t just run away from every uncomfortable conversation.” </p><p>Crowley didn’t answer him. Ezra had half a mind to burst through the tent and demand they talk, no more running away. He put his hand on the tent flap. </p><p>Then he dropped it. </p><p>“I can’t make you talk,” he said to the tent. “But I do want you to understand that I care very deeply for you, Crowley. I don’t want you to feel like you have to run from me. Maybe in the morning, we can actually have a conversation.” </p><p>He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. Good night, Crowley.” </p><p>He turned to go to his own tent. His eyes caught sight of the ridge they had been at earlier. The sun had set now. He could see stars dotting the sky. </p><p>He looked back at Crowley’s tent. The man knew he wanted to see the stars. He had asked if they could stay up and look at them practically every day. </p><p>“Fuck it,” he said. “I’m going to look at the stars tonight. If I’m too slow tomorrow because I’m tired, too bad.” </p><p>He marched back up to the ridge and plopped himself down, finally doing something he had wanted to do for a while.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>They're getting closer... How much longer do you think this can go on? This silly little dance?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. That Moment when Things Go a Little Too Far</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Have some horny Aziraphale you sinful bastards. Enjoy the rest of your weekends and stay safe!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ezra didn’t know how long he had laid there to watch the stars. They were dotting the sky like billions of diamonds. There was even what he suspected to be the Milky Way. It almost looked like a cloud, but he knew there was no such thing out here in the Sahara. He thought for a moment before smiling to himself. </p><p>These weren’t just stars, on no. They were the diamonds from a broken necklace of a now long-forgotten goddess. Perhaps, in battle, her necklace snapped sending them scattering across the inky black sky. Or perhaps when she saw humans had no way to see at night, she broke her jewels to give them light. Yes, he liked the second one much better. </p><p>“Perhaps I should start writing folktales,” he chuckled to himself. It would be an interesting story, to say the least.</p><p>He shivered and wrapped his coat tight around himself. It was so much colder than the day. He half feared he would shiver right out of his skin. Still, he refused to go inside. He had never seen a sight so beautiful. </p><p>He would have liked to share this moment with Crowley. </p><p>He sighed. He couldn’t even pretend to want to be with Gabriel anymore. “Maybe it’s just because I’ve been away from him for so long.” </p><p>Another sigh. “No, that’s not it. Honestly, I don’t think I love him anymore. I wonder if I ever did.” </p><p>Gabriel was safe and comfortable. He was well-respected and had a good job. He was driven and handsome. </p><p>He wasn’t right for Ezra. Ezra wanted to travel, go on adventures, write, meet new and interesting people. Gabriel wanted to sit at boring dinner parties and talk to the same people year after year. They wanted different things out of life. They needed different things out of life. </p><p>Perhaps Gabriel knew this too. He hadn’t touched Ezra in months. He was quick to judge and quicker to snap at his indiscretions. There were also numerous cheating accusations. It seemed like everything Ezra did was evidence of his infidelity, even though Ezra had never been with anyone but Gabriel, something the man knew very well. If Gabriel was so afraid of Ezra leaving him, then why did he stay? It couldn’t feel good to constantly worry if your partner was being faithful or not. </p><p>Then there was Crowley to consider. Ezra still didn’t know if Crowley wanted to be with him. He was handsome, charming, and polite, no matter what he said. True, he was rough around the edges, but he was still <em>nice</em>. He thought back to the sex dream and immediately his cock took an interest. </p><p>He pursed his lips and tried to think of Gabriel in a sexual way. Immediately he felt his erection flag. Well, that settled that issue. He sat up and looked down at the tents. It seemed he was the only one still up at this hour. Even the camels appeared to be sleeping. </p><p>He collapsed back down and stared at the stars some more. His cock was still half-hard from the previous thought. He was attracted to Crowley. He wanted to have sex with Crowley. He wanted Crowley to touch him and kiss him. </p><p><em>Screw it.</em> He thought. <em>I haven’t had sex in months and I’m entitled to a little bit of fantasy. Besides, after tonight, Crowley probably won’t want to even look at me.</em></p><p>He was still ashamed Crowley thought it proper to drop him on his ass in the sand. </p><p>Ezra closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He imagined he heard a tent flap open and footsteps coming up to the ridge.  </p><p>“Angel,” Crowley’s voice would be husky and rich, like honey. He would sit down beside Ezra, who would rise to meet him. </p><p>“What are you still doing up? I thought you were an early bird and liked to sleep early? It has to be close to midnight.” </p><p>Crowley touched his cheek, his thumb swiping across his lips. “I couldn’t get you out of my mind. Being pressed so close to you today, God, angel, you have no idea what it did to me.” </p><p>“Do you know what it did to me?” Ezra asked, coyly. </p><p>“I have an idea.” Crowley leaned forward to kiss him. Ezra sighed and shifted so they were pressed together. Crowley took advantage of this sigh and slipped his tongue into his mouth. Ezra could feel his fangs pressing ever so gently on his lips, just enough to hurt but not enough to be overwhelming. Crowley’s other hand wrapped around his waist and shifted them so he could lie Ezra down on the rocks, settling between his legs.</p><p>Ezra let out a breathy moan and began rubbing his still clothed cock. It felt so real. He could feel Crowley’s body pressed against him, his tongue mapping his mouth with such skill, his cock pressing against his hip. </p><p>“Please,” He moaned. He unbuttoned his pants and shimmied out of them just enough to reach his cock, pretending it was Crowley’s hands dragging against the sensitive flesh. Luckily, his hands had become calloused with all the work, so it was easy to imagine they were Crowley’s, the rough flesh catching on his skin. </p><p>“Please,” he breathed again. In his mind, Crowley was kissing his neck now, sucking bruises up and down, marking him as his own. </p><p>His hand skirted up to his shirt, now unbuttoned, and he began rubbing himself, feeling his hand press and grope in all the right places. </p><p>“Please what?” Crowley’s voice was raw. He could feel him rolling against him, just enough to cause friction and to feel his erection pressing against him. “Tell me what you want, dove.” </p><p>Oh, he would call him dove. Ezra loved it. </p><p>“Please, I need you. I need you inside me, like the dream.” Ezra said. </p><p>Crowley shook his head. “No. You’re going to be on your back for this. I want you to look at the stars while I fuck you.” </p><p>Ezra fully shimmied out of his pants, feeling the freezing air against his skin. He didn’t care, he was burning with need. He reached down to his entrance, picturing Crowley’s fingers down there and began to stretch himself out. It would have been better if he had brought up oil or something, but he didn’t think this was how he would spend his night. </p><p>He blinked his eyes opened and looked up at the stars. Crowley was now inside of him, his hips rolling to a rhythm as he fucked him hard into the ground. Above him, the stars spread out into infinite space; surrounding him with a melody of the cosmos reverberating in his veins. Crowley’s hands and mouth were everywhere. Why not? It was a fantasy and, in his fantasy, Crowley could be many places at once. </p><p>He was stroking himself harder, faster, clenching his teeth so that not a sound escaped. He could feel Crowley’s body on top of him. It felt so real. It felt so nice. </p><p>“Angel,” Crowley would breathe into his ear as he came. </p><p>Ezra came, feeling the long-needed release erupt from his body. He laid there, boneless on the ground, panting as he attempted to regain control over his breathing. Shame washed over him. There was no going back now. He could chalk the dream up to just that, a dream. But he couldn’t come up with a justification for this. Sure, he may have never had sex with Crowley, but the fact that he was purposefully fantasizing was too much. Gabriel deserved better. Crowley deserved better. He was a selfish person stringing along two men because of his insecurities. </p><p>“I’m a horrible person,” He whispered, sitting up and seeing the mess he made. His clothes had been strewn about the ledge. His back and legs were dirty from being naked on the ground. He shivered and curled in on himself. He didn’t even know if Crowley wanted him in that way. </p><p>“I should have never come here,” he said, starting to cry. He had been happy in London. He had enjoyed having tea with Anathema and eating fancy foods with Madam Tracy. He wasn’t living the life of adventure he had dreamed about as a child, but most people weren’t. What made him special? What made him more deserving than others to get out and explore the world? </p><p>Nothing. Absolutely nothing. </p><p>He could break up with Gabriel. And then what? What would he do? He couldn’t count on Crowley coming to save him. He didn’t even want to leave Egypt! He had a medical condition that made him sensitive to sunlight and he still refused to leave. Why would he go with Ezra of all people? And the only reason Ezra was still alive was that Crowley had helped him out. If he hadn’t been there, if he hadn’t agreed to work with him, Ezra may be dead in the gutter. </p><p>So, he sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. He was stuck, completely stuck with nowhere to go and nothing to do. Gabriel truly was the best he could do in life and he knew it. Gabriel probably knew it as well. Ezra should be thankful he was still putting up with him, that is if they weren’t already broken up after his little stunt. </p><p>Why did he think he could do this? Why did he let his imagination and desires carry him here? Why couldn’t he be practical?</p><p>He was a horrible person. He was a horrible fiancé. He was a horrible employer. Why did anyone put up with him? </p><p>“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He didn’t know who he was apologizing to. His mother? Gabriel? Crowley? The universe? All of the above? He just sat there, repeating the words over and over again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Old Friends and Familiar Faces</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to everyone who left a comment on that last chapter! I'll try to respond to everyone tomorrow. Have a great week.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eventually, there were no more tears left to cry. He still stayed on those rocks, stiff and cold as the stars began to fade and the sky began to lighten. He had tried, about an hour ago, to move back to the tent and get some sleep. </p><p>His legs didn’t want to cooperate. His body didn’t want to cooperate. His mind was racing with so many thoughts that he didn’t want to think anymore. He was tired of listening to himself argue over and over again. Ezra Fell was an adult. He should make a choice and stick to it. </p><p>And yet, he couldn’t get himself to move. He could only sit there and stare down at their little campsite. His head pounded from exhaustion and crying. His throat was tight. His body was weak. Soon the sun would be up and Crowley would be awake. He’d expect Ezra to help pack up the tents and load up the camels. Then he would expect Ezra to walk twenty miles through the harsh sun and burning sand. </p><p>Ezra should have been asleep. He should have taken Crowley’s rejection as a sign things were not meant to be and give up on this foolish endeavor. Instead, he was upon the rocks, shamefully masturbating like a teenager and cheating on his fiancé. This would have repercussions for the rest of his trip. He would slow them down today and put them behind schedule. Crowley would get angry and see him for the useless person he was. When Ezra would finally make it back to London, Gabriel would be there with fire in his eyes as he broke up with him. Mrs. Young would scoff at his pathetic attempts to write a story and throw it in the trash. Anathema and Madam Tracy would abandon him because of how terrible he was. </p><p>Then, Ezra would be alone. He would be alone just like he should have been from the beginning. He was a terrible person. He deserved nothing. </p><p>“Well, my dear,” he whispered, smiling as more tears sprang to his eyes. “Thank you for giving me such a wonderful trip. I imagine you won’t want to talk to me after today. I understand. I think…” </p><p>He swallowed and looked back up at the sky. There were just a few stars out now. “I think I might have been falling in love with you. Imagine how silly that is. I’ve been with Gabriel for nearly five years and yet it only takes me a month to fall in love with a complete stranger. I know you don’t feel the same way about me. Why would you? I’m just a stuffy, dumpy old thing who isn’t much suited to your life of romance and adventure. I’m starting to think I’m not suited for any sort of life.” </p><p>He didn’t know why he kept talking. Crowley couldn’t hear him. He certainly wasn’t practicing for later. But it was cathartic. It felt nice too, just for once, let his feelings be known and not judged or laughed at. It was nice that for this one moment in time, he could speak freely and openly without fear. So he kept speaking. </p><p>“It’s rather foolish of me to throw away everything on the off chance that you might want to come with me.”</p><p><em>You could always go by yourself,”</em> The little voice in the back of his head said. </p><p>“No, no I wouldn’t survive the night. I’m too reliant on other people. That’s why Gabriel didn’t want me to do this. He knew I would get in trouble. And I did. I’m only lucky that Mr. Crowley pities me, otherwise I would have been mugged and left for dead on my first day. No, I’m not suited to adventure. I’m suited to stay home and read with a nice cup of cocoa. Perhaps I can patch things up with Gabriel and live out the rest of my life safe in the English countryside.” </p><p>
  <em>Is that really what you want?</em>
</p><p>He stood and gathered his clothes. He would have to face the music. His actions had consequences and he had to deal with them, no matter how much he didn’t want to. He took one last look out at the desert. It was beautiful in the morning light. The sun was just starting to peek out from behind the curve of the Earth, lighting the sand in fire and gold as the air heated with its rays. Another tear streaked its way down his cheek. </p><p>Ezra turned and made his way down the path. </p><p>He got about half-way down before he heard the rocks shift. He paused and strained his ears. Something in his gut told him to remain completely still and silent. Something was here. </p><p>The rocks shifted again and he heard something. It sounded like… voices? That couldn’t be possible. Crowley wasn’t up yet, he would have seen him. And the camels didn’t talk unless this was what Ezra was like when he was sleep-deprived. Yes. He was sleep-deprived. There was no one else out here in the desert. It was just him, Crowley, and three opinionated camels. His gut was still screaming at him to stay still, but Ezra ignored it. He wasn’t astute enough to make such calculated observations on nothing more than a few rocks shifting. He should go down and try to get at least an out of sleep. </p><p>“They’re somewhere around here. I know it.” </p><p>Ezra froze. Someone was definitely here. </p><p>“We’ve been tracking them for weeks. Are you sure they’re this way?” </p><p>Two people and they were looking for someone. Ezra’s heart was pounding. What were the odds they were looking for them? Probably likely. He didn’t know many people who were traveling this way at this time of year. </p><p>He was frozen in place, trying to figure out what to do. He could call for Crowley, but that might cause the two men following him to panic and attack. He would have to try and get there as quietly as possible. They would be upon him soon. He started back down the trail, as quietly as possible. </p><p>He should have been going as carefully as possible. His foot caught a loose pile of stones and he slid down, letting out an involuntary yelp. </p><p>“You hear that?” </p><p>He scrambled to his feet and started sprinting back towards the camp. He didn’t get far before he ran right into the owner of one of the voices. He recognized him immediately. </p><p>“Hastur, what a coincidence,” he said, smiling and trying to act calm. </p><p>“Hello there.” Ligur emerged from behind him. “Fancy meeting you here.” </p><p>“Quite. If you excuse me.” Ezra tried to step around Hastur. The man simply gripped his arm, painfully. </p><p>“Oh, you’re not going to meet up with that snake,” Hastur said, his beady black eyes boring into Ezra. Seriously, what medical condition did this man have? “We’ve been tracking you for weeks.” </p><p>“Weeks,” Ligur said. </p><p>“And now, you’re coming with us.” </p><p>Ezra tried to yank his arm out of his grip. Hastur laughed and pulled him forward. “You know where the amulet is?” </p><p>“No, I simply know where a temple is. Now unhand me.” </p><p>“Unhand him, he says,” Ligur laughed. </p><p>Ezra’s heart was beating at a rapid pace. They were taking him somewhere and Crowley would be none the wiser. He had to get help. He had to get away. </p><p>“I already have a guide. I don’t need you two gentlemen. Now if you please be on your way.” When in doubt, be as polite as possible. Maybe? It wasn’t like this happened to him often.</p><p>“Oh no, pretty bird,” Hastur grinned at him, his teeth rotting from his mouth. “Our boss wants that amulet. You know where it’s at. So, you’re coming with us.” </p><p>“No, I am not!” Ezra said. He had no choice. He needed help. “Crowley!” He shouted as loudly as he could. “Crowley, help!” He prayed Crowley still had his gun with him. </p><p>“Crowl-“ </p><p>Hastur clamped a hand over his mouth. “Get the rope. Come on, hurry up before the bastard wakes up.” </p><p>No. No, this couldn’t be happening. Ezra had to get away. He had to get back to Crowley. His mind was racing. He needed a plan. He needed to do something. </p><p>His body got the memo and reacted on instinct. Hastur’s hand had slipped enough for Ezra to bite down, hard. </p><p>Hastur let out a yelp and wrenched his hand from Ezra’s mouth. The grip on his arm loosened and Ezra was able to wrench free. Without a second thought, he whirled on Ligur and punched him in the face as hard as he could. He felt his hand buckle on impact, possibly breaking several bones. It didn’t matter. It was enough to stun them. He took off across the desert, running as fast as he could. </p><p>“Crowley! Help! Please!” He was screaming at the top of his lungs, waking up the camels. Why wasn’t Crowley coming out? Why wasn’t he coming to help him? Hastur wouldn’t have killed him, otherwise, there would be no reason to silence and bind him. He would have gloated. Ezra was sure of it. Crowley was still alive. He had to be.</p><p>“Crowley!” He was so close now, but there was still no Crowley insight. Desperation was leaking into his voice. He was crying once more, scared out of his mind that he would be kidnapped by these two fiends. </p><p>“Gotcha!” Hastur tackled him to the ground. Ezra felt pain explode across his temple and the skin on his chin scrape off as Hastur dragged him back. </p><p>“No!” He screamed, kicking and flailing his legs, hoping to hit something long enough to stun them once more. </p><p>“Hurry up, get him under control,” Hastur said, pinning him to the ground and pressing his knee into his back. </p><p>“Crowley!” Why wasn’t he coming out? Why wasn’t he helping him? He wasn’t dead. But he wasn’t coming out. Why? </p><p>“What the fuck is that?” Hastur scrambled off of his back. </p><p>Ezra coughed and looked up to see the largest snake he had ever seen in his life before him. It was easily bigger than a boa constrictor, practically the size of a man but several feet longer. He locked eyes with the monster. It flicked it’s tongue out, staring at Ezra before turning back to Hastur and Ligur and lunging at them. </p><p>“Fuck!” Hastur screeched, just barely managing to miss the fangs. </p><p>Ezra rolled out of the way, blood was dripping down his face and he was certain he had a concussion. That would explain why he was seeing a giant snake. What that didn’t explain is why Hastur and Ligur were also seeing a giant snake. </p><p>Ligur lunged at the creature, clearly trying to subdue it as he had attempted with Ezra. The creature was quick and twisted its body, sinking its fangs into Ligur’s leg. </p><p>The man let out a howl and collapsed to the ground. The sun was almost out, now. The last few stars were dotting the sky. </p><p>The snake pulled back and lunged at Hastur. Hastur, apparently much smarter than Ligur (or at least had more self-preservation) leaped out of the way. He grabbed onto Ligur and started dragging him back to where they came.</p><p>Ezra was breathing heavily, trying to make sense of everything. Where in the Hell had the snake come from? They weren’t native to Egypt unless it was an invasive species. Then again, he was certain a snake this large wasn’t native anywhere. </p><p>The snake slithered back towards him, its tongue flicking out to taste the blood on his temple. Right. Concussion. He should probably deal with that. The snake lurched back and let out a hiss. </p><p>“What’s happening?” Ezra said as if the creature or the camels could talk. Speaking of the camels, why weren’t they freaking out more over the GIANT SNAKE that was currently writhing around in the sand as if it were in pain. </p><p>Ezra scrambled to his feet, hands waving uncertainly as he tried to figure out what to do. “Crowley?” He ran to the tent and ripped open the flap, privacy be damned! </p><p>There was no Crowley. </p><p>“Crowley?” He was getting hysterical now. He had just been through an attempted kidnapping and now there was a giant red and black snake flopping all over the sand. </p><p>Wait, it was transforming. The red and black scales were shifting and changing into… skin?</p><p>In fact, the snake itself seemed to be transforming. Its head becoming rounder, arms and legs forming out of its scaly body, continuing to writhe in the sand until—</p><p>“Crowley?” Ezra gasped. </p><p>There, on the sand in front of him, where the snake one was, was Crowley. He was completely naked, hunched over and coughing. But Ezra was sure it was Crowley. </p><p>He turned, his eyes were still very much like a snake. They were completely yellow with slits for pupils. </p><p>“Um, yeah. It’s me. Are you okay? Of course, you're not okay. You’re bleeding. Christ, what happened to your hand? Why’s it all swollen?” </p><p>“You’re a snake?” His mind was going fuzzy. He was having trouble thinking. Crowley was a snake. </p><p>“Um, yeah.” Crowley rubbed the back of his neck. “So, listen, we need to talk.” </p><p>“Right.” Ezra nodded. Bad idea. His brain was rattling around in his head. He was having trouble breathing. The sun was beating down on him and everything seemed much brighter than normal. </p><p>“Are you alright? You look like you need to sit down.” </p><p>“Oh, no.” His hands were shaking. His entire body was shaking. “I’m fine, my dear. Tickety-boo.” </p><p>Everything went black. </p><p>“Ezra!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Useless gays, both of them. </p><p>Really Crowley? "I think we need to talk" while Ezra is bleeding?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. How to Deal with a Concussion 101</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Didn't leave you guys hanging too long, did I?😁 I'm still struggling with some depression so updates might be a bit slower these next few weeks but I will try to get them out. Writing makes me feel better and I really enjoy it, so hopefully forcing myself to write just a bit will help me emotionally. We'll see though. </p><p>Content warning: Blood, injuries, concussions, vomiting (though it is vague), descriptions of injuries, broken bones.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first thing Ezra noticed when he woke up was the pain in his head. It felt like he had an icepick lodged into his skull.</p><p>The second thing he noticed was the pain in his hand. It was throbbing and felt like it had been stomped on repeatedly by an elephant. </p><p>He groaned and rolled to his side. </p><p>“Ezra?” Someone was talking to him. They sounded desperate, whoever they were. </p><p>Come to think of it, where was he? Why were so many parts of him that were hurting? </p><p>“Ezra, come on, love, please wake up.” The man sounded desperate, barely holding onto his composure. </p><p>Ezra struggled to open his eyes. His muddled mind was trying to piece together events. He was in… Egypt? Yes. He was in Egypt looking for the Amulet of Isis. He remembered that bit. Then if he was in Egypt, the person talking to him must be…</p><p>“Crowley?” He groaned, finally managing to open his eyes. It was light out, too bright. He slammed them shut as the light pierced his skull, causing him more pain. </p><p>“Thank the gods, you’re alive.” </p><p>“You weren’t sure?” Ezra asked, still trying to remember what happened. He had wanted to see the stars. He shamefully masturbated while thinking of Crowley. He was attacked by Hastur and Ligur. And then…</p><p>“You’re a snake!” He bolted upright. Big mistake. His head swam and the world tilted on its access. </p><p>Crowley was beside him and grabbed him before he could fall back. “Easy there, angel. I think you might have a concussion.” </p><p>“I do,” Ezra said, breathing slowly so as not to vomit all over the tent. It didn’t work. Luckily, Crowley had a small bucket handy so the mess was contained. </p><p>“What do I do?” Crowley asked, still sounding seconds away from panicking. “You’re the doctor here, how do I stop you from dying?” </p><p>“I’m not a doctor,” he said, after finishing. “Haven’t you ever had to deal with a concussion before?” Ezra mumbled, letting Crowley lay him back down on the bedroll. “You’ve never hit your head out here in the desert?” </p><p>“I have, but it’s part of—it’s part of the snake thing. I heal quickly. That’s why my ankle was fine in a day.” </p><p>“Hmm.” Ezra tried to get his brain to focus on his training and what to do in case of a concussion. </p><p>“How long have I been out?” He asked. </p><p>“Almost the entire day,” Crowley said. “It’s nearly sunset. Angel, you have to tell me what to do. I’m about to become a snake again and I can’t help you when I’m a snake.” </p><p>Ezra blinked his eyes open once more. “Why are you a snake?” </p><p>“I swear, I’ll tell you tomorrow, just give me something to work with here.” </p><p>“Hmm.” He thought some more. Memories were starting to come back to him. He had a better idea of where he was and what he was doing. “Well, I’ve slept for eight hours. Ask me some general questions that I should know the answer to immediately, like the year and my full name.” </p><p>“Okay. Okay,” Crowley took a deep breath. “What year is it?” </p><p>“Unless we’ve been out in the desert for longer than I thought, it should be 1922.” </p><p>“Yeah, that’s right.” </p><p>Ezra could hear the relief in Crowley’s voice. </p><p>“Okay, what’s your full name?” </p><p>“Ezra Zachary Fell,” he answered automatically. </p><p>“You’re middle name’s Zachary?” </p><p>“What’s your middle name?” </p><p>“James.” </p><p>“Hmm, Anthony James Crowley. I like it. It has a nice ring to it.” He was starting to feel drowsy once more, but he forced himself to stay awake. </p><p>“Is there water? I need to stay hydrated.” </p><p>“Right!” Crowley got to his feet. “Right, angel, hang on. I’ll get you some water.” </p><p>Ezra was left alone in the tent, his hand still throbbing. He forced his eyes open to examine the injury. It was swollen and definitely broken. There were bandages on it, however. It appeared as though Crowley had attempted to bind it, but it wasn’t enough. Ezra was going to have to redo it so the injury would heal properly.” </p><p>Crowley burst back in the tent, several canteens of water in hand. “Here you go.” He handed him one and he drank it with gusto. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was. His throat was parched and his lips were chapped. He could have downed the whole thing in one go but paced himself. Too much too soon would cause him to vomit again. </p><p>“Anything else?” Crowley asked. He seemed calmer, less jittery than when he first woke up. </p><p>“Help me with my hand,” Ezra said, handing him back the canteen. </p><p>Crowley helped him into a seated position, slowly as to not aggravate his head anymore. Binding his hand hurt so much. There were times Ezra was blinded with pain and he started crying half-way through. </p><p>Crowley was strong, but he apologized throughout.</p><p>“It’s not your fault,” he said through gritted teeth as Crowley tightened the bandage and splinted his fingers together. </p><p>“It is though. This stupid curse…” He sat back, staring down at the ground. “I heard you. I heard you screaming for me to come help you. I didn’t know if I would be able to do anything in snake form. We were so close to the sunrise and I was just… I was frozen.” </p><p>Ezra leaned into Crowley and started to cry. He wanted to tell him ‘It’s okay. I understand.’ Or perhaps, ‘It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have gotten captured in the first place.’ Instead, he just cried. He sobbed and wailed and let everything rush back to him. The fear of what Hastur and Ligur were going to do to him. The fear that Crowley wasn’t going to come help him. The fear that he was going to be tortured by two psychopaths in the middle of the desert and no one would ever find his body. He was so scared. He felt so helpless. </p><p>Crowley wrapped his arms around him and squeezed him tight. There was wetness on Ezra’s shirt collar and he knew Crowley was crying as well. </p><p>They stayed like that for several minutes, until the sobs became hiccups and the tears left tracks on their faces. Crowley pulled back and scrubbed his eyes. </p><p>“Drink some more water and then you should get some rest.” </p><p>“I want to know why you’re a snake? What’s going on, Crowley?” He wasn’t a child. He didn’t need to be treated like glass, or like he couldn’t understand the world. Granted, he couldn’t figure out how someone could transform into a snake. Magic, to him, had always been something in stories and fairytales. It wasn’t real. </p><p>Except, it was, apparently. He had seen Crowley in his snake form and had seen him transform in front of his very eyes. He might have blamed it on the concussion, except Crowley was telling him it was true. He wanted answers. He deserved answers. </p><p>“I swear, angel, I’ll tell you everything tomorrow. The sun’s going down. As soon as the first stars appear in the sky, I’ll transform into a snake and I won’t be able to talk.”</p><p>“Does it really take that long to explain why you’re a snake?” Ezra asked as Crowley lay him back down. </p><p>A flicker of pain flashed across Crowley’s face and Ezra realized just now that he wasn’t wearing his glasses. His eyes were golden yellow with slits for pupils. They were mesmerizing to look at. </p><p>“I mean, I can give you the abbreviated version, but I want to tell you everything. It’s selfish, I know.” He looked away. “But I want you to understand. I deserve this. I know I do, but maybe if I tell you the whole thing, maybe you’ll tell me something different.” </p><p>Ezra looked at him, this shame-faced man who couldn’t bear to look at him. He didn’t know why this was happening or how, but he also refused to believe Crowley deserved it. </p><p>“You can trust me, Crowley. Please trust me.” </p><p>Crowley looked up, there was vulnerability written across his face. He smiled sadly. “The short version is that I broke into a temple and pissed Isis off so she cursed me to be a snake.” </p><p>“The long version?” </p><p>Crowley reached out and brushed a curl from his forehead. The gesture made him melt. “Tomorrow, angel. I promise you I will tell you everything tomorrow. Besides, you probably need to keep resting so we’re not going to leave until you’re better.” </p><p>Ezra nodded, his eyes slipping closed. He was so tired, but his mind was racing with questions and thoughts. He wanted to know everything. He deserved to know everything. </p><p>“You called me love,” he murmured and drifted off before he could hear Crowley’s reply.</p><p>oOoOoOo</p><p>Crowley finished writhing on the ground, his transformation complete. It wasn’t painful, per se, but it was uncomfortable. His bones and muscles had to rework themselves into the anatomy of a snake and there was rather a lot of burning that needed to happen to accomplish that. </p><p>He glanced over at Ezra, sleeping soundly, snoring softly. He had been panicked when he couldn’t get the man to wake up. He didn’t know what to do and his only solace was listening to his heartbeat and seeing his chest rise and fall. </p><p>He slithered up to him and curled around him. Ezra’s heat made him feel more awake; his body chasing off the desert cold that made him useless at night. </p><p>Smelling Ezra’s fear and his blood terrified him. It terrified him more than he thought possible and from the moment he started screaming, Crowley’s world became dark, enveloped completely by the fear Ezra held. Part of the reason he couldn’t go help immediately was because of his blasted cold-blood. He was trying, struggling against his biology to move, just move and help! But he couldn’t. Only as the sun started to come up and the earth started to warm was he finally able to save Ezra from those monsters. </p><p>His tongue flicked out to taste the blood still caking Ezra’s temple. This man was too good for him, too good for any of them. He helped comfort Crowley when he was the one who needed it. He thought of Crowley’s feelings and desires. He told him it wasn’t his fault. </p><p>How come he could say all of those things to Crowley and not see that they applied to him? How come he refused to think that he deserved better than a verbally abusive fiancé who treated him like garbage? </p><p>They were running out of time. Crowley was doing his best to help Ezra see his worth, but it was nearly impossible to do that without also bringing up Gabriel, thus sparking another argument. After he told Ezra about what he had done, he would put all of his efforts into convincing him to get away from Gabriel. </p><p>He probably couldn’t convince him to stay here. He deserved better than Crowley. But maybe, just maybe, he could convince him to go on one more adventure without Gabriel. Then maybe he would finally be free from the monster he lived with. </p><p>It was colder now, too cold for Ezra’s body heat to make much of a difference. So Crowley wrapped around him tighter, flicked his tongue to see if Hastur and Ligur were still lurking, and then drifted off to sleep.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next week, we'll find out more about Crowley. Isn't that exciting? The mysterious man of the desert will finally be revealed to us!</p><p>Say Hi on Tumblr: <br/>https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/springapreppe</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. So...You're a Snake?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you everyone for your kind words last week. I'll admit, I write mostly for myself, but it is nice to know so many people are enjoying this little story. It's kind of amazing how much fun I've had writing it. I'm glad so many of us enjoy gay adventure period fics in 1920s Egypt. It's a niche, but it's MY niche.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Ezra awoke the next morning, he was feeling much better. His head no longer swam and the light no longer burned his eyes. His hand still throbbed, though. He’d need to actually look at it and determine how badly it was broken. Before, he was having trouble concentrating, no doubt a side effect of the concussion. Maybe he should ask Crowley to turn back. Any break was dangerous, especially this far out in the desert with minimal medical equipment. </p><p>But he was so close to the temple. </p><p>What did Crowley say? Only about another week and they’d be there? He had to push forward. He had to. There was a fire that had been lit within him and to risk extinguishing what might be his only chance to live a life he’d always dream about; it was too much. </p><p>There was, of course, the other problem. </p><p>Crowley, apparently, turned into a snake at night. So… magic was real? Did that mean the Amulet of Isis did something? Ezra had always assumed it was little more than a pretty necklace. </p><p>Why was Crowley a snake? What did he do to “deserve” being turned into a snake? </p><p>Ezra bit his lip and sat up slowly. He had to face the man and demand answers. It was only fair after everything that had happened. </p><p>Glancing at the flaps of the tent, he sighed and steadied himself for what would probably be the weirdest conversation of his life. </p><p>oOoOoOo</p><p>Crowley still held out hope that Ezra thought the entire snake thing was just the result of a rather nasty bump on his head. He could probably deny the whole thing, and Ezra would be none the wiser. </p><p>He wouldn’t. If Ezra asked, he would spill the whole truth. Years of feeling trapped with nowhere to turn and no one to confide in had done their toll on him. He was more fragile now than ever. He was lonely, slowly dying because of the guilt from his past. He held no illusions that the Amulet would be the answer to his prayers. He couldn’t afford to hope anymore. </p><p>But maybe, just maybe, confessing his sins to this beautiful angel would be enough to put his soul at rest. Maybe Ezra couldn’t save him, but he could still help him. </p><p>“Crowley?” Ezra’s voice was unsure, quiet, almost inaudible over the roar of the desert wind. </p><p>He turned to see him standing at the door of the tent, still pale but much less dead-looking than before. </p><p>“How are you feeling?” he asked. He had to make sure he was okay. Ezra was the most important thing here. All else could wait while he recovered. </p><p>“Do you need help loading up the camels?” He wanted to ask about the snake thing, Crowley could tell. He was hesitant, almost polite in not prodding. </p><p>He shook his head. “No, you still need to rest. And I want to look at that hand again. Besides…” He took a deep breath and steadied his nerves. Was it normal for a heart to beat this fast? Could you die because your heart exploded from stress? </p><p>“We need to talk about the…” Ezra gestured to Crowley’s body. </p><p>“Yeah.” He looked back to the fire where he was preparing breakfast. “Yeah, the whole snake thing. Well, pull up a chair. It’s a wild ride.” He tried to sound cheerful as if it was the most normal thing in the world to turn into a snake when the sun went down. </p><p>Ezra sat down on the little stool. “I suppose I can work on my hand while you tell the story. I’ll need your help though. I can’t believe I broke it. How useless must I be that I can’t even punch properly.” </p><p>Crowley took the injured hand in his own and started to unwind the bandages. “You’re not useless. People underestimate how hard faces are. I’ve broken my hands a few times and it’s literally my job to punch people in the face.” </p><p>Ezra sniffed. “I suppose you’ll have to give me some pointers, then, just in case we run across those foul men again.” </p><p>Crowley bit his tongue, still ashamed of the way he had failed Ezra. He had smelled Hastur and Ligur for a while before they attacked but was never completely sure they were following. Their scents were just a bit too far away. A bit too faint. He had decided to ignore it, to assume everything was fine. He should have trusted his gut. Hastur and Ligur were expert trackers. </p><p>“I’ll start at the beginning, I guess. You need to understand why I was in Egypt and why I was so desperate that I broke into a temple.” </p><p>“Wherever you need to start, my dear.” </p><p>Oh, Ezra, perfect, understanding Ezra. Somehow, even just that one sentence made Crowley believe, for the first time in almost a decade, that everything would be alright. He let himself cling to that hope, just a bit longer. It was all he had. </p><p>oOoOoOo</p><p>Anthony James Crowley was named after his maternal grandfather and his father. He was a boy from a well-to-do family with a seemingly perfect life. His mother stayed home to cook feasts every night and entertain the wives of his father’s clients. His father was one of the best lawyers London had ever seen and had quickly risen through the ranks of his grandfather’s firm to become a partner. Don’t think nepotism played a role, however. James Crowley clawed his way to the top just like every other lawyer in that firm. There were no favorites with Anthony Winters. </p><p>James Crowley was expected to be a top-notch lawyer. His wife was expected to live out her duties as an upper class, married, respectable woman. And Anthony James Crowley was expected to go to school, become a proper Englishman, and eventually take over the law firm once his grandfather became too old to run the place (make no mistake, the firm was <em>never</em> going to James Crowley). </p><p>Yes, if you looked at Anthony’s life, things were rather perfect. His family was practically the poster-child for what a proper English family should be. Of course, that perfection was broken somewhat when his mother died in childbirth. The baby didn’t make it either. </p><p>Anthony was only eight years old when this happened. He didn’t understand, for several weeks, why his nannies were tucking him in instead of his mother. He didn’t understand why his father hired a cook. He didn’t understand, fully, that his mother was never coming back. </p><p>One would assume James Crowley, having just lost his wife and baby, would be beside himself with grief and barely able to function. But he was a proper Englishman with a job to do. There was no time to mourn the loss of his family when he had work. Besides, women died all the time in childbirth. It would be like getting sad because his dog died. Death was a fact of life, and the sooner you moved on from it, the better. </p><p>Anthony didn’t feel the same way but wanted to be good for his father and so did what he was told. He went to school and studied law books in his spare time. When he was on school break, he worked in his grandfather’s law firm learning the tricks of the trade and spending more time in courtrooms than playing with boyhood friends. </p><p>He needed to make life easier for his father, not harder. So, he put his head down and worked, never questioning his place or his future. He worked towards the goal of becoming the best lawyer he could be. </p><p>Things began to change, as they often do, as he grew from a child to a young man. His teenage mind started to question the nature of things; started to seek answers where before he was content not knowing. He started thinking about his future, not just passively going along with others’ plans. </p><p>“Do you really want to be a lawyer?” his friend, Luc Morningstar, asked one day at an underground pub. </p><p>His father used to like Luc. He encouraged Anthony’s friendship with the boy because his father was some bigshot politician that had the potential to become a big client. As Luc got older, though, he started acting out more and more. He had been denounced by his father and kicked to the curb after one scandal too many. </p><p>Anthony was forbidden to ever talk to the boy again. But friendships formed in youth are often stronger than blood, and he could never fully pull himself away from Luc. Besides, he secretly agreed with a lot of his ideas. </p><p>“It seems to me,” Luc continued, not bothering listening to Crowley’s response, “that you are just passively living your life. If your father came to you today and said ‘Anthony, I want you to become a circus clown’, you’d probably do it without a second thought.” </p><p>The group of guys they were with, mostly sons of other rich aristocrats, all laughed. </p><p>“I wouldn’t become a circus clown,” Anthony said, almost half-heartedly. He wouldn’t become a circus clown because his grandfather would never allow that to happen, so he was in no danger of that situation becoming a reality.</p><p>Luc rolled his eyes. “You get my point though.” He clapped him on the shoulder. “Look, I get it, we all do. Our parents have been controlling our lives since day one. Asmo here is going to become a banker. And Baph is about to get sent off to become some kiss-ass politician. We all have our crosses to bear, but it doesn’t have to be that way.”</p><p>“It doesn’t?” Something in Anthony’s mind was screaming at him that this was a trap. Luc was up to something. He had his own agenda. He wasn’t looking out for Crowley. He shoved that thought away. There was no hidden agenda. They had very similar situations and his friend was just looking out for him. </p><p>“Yes!” Luc wrapped an arm around Anthony’s shoulder and pulled him close. “This world is ours for the taking. We deserve so much more than to work shitty jobs we hate because of our parents!” </p><p>The group cheered. Anthony followed along but was more half-hearted in his agreement. He didn’t disagree with Luc, but he didn’t fully agree with him either. They didn’t deserve more, not when there were so many people suffering. But maybe he didn’t have to be a lawyer. </p><p>“Seriously, Anthony,” Luc continued. “What do you want to do with your life? In all the years I’ve known you, I don’t think you have a single character trait that’s your own. You’re practically a younger version of your grandfather, and not in a good way.” </p><p>As Crowley stumbled home, drunk and dazed, his mind mulled over the words Luc had said. He plopped down on a bench and tilted his head back to look at the sky. It was cloudy, so he couldn’t see any stars, but he could imagine them up there, glittering like diamonds. </p><p>What did he want to do? He never really liked law, though there were some human rights aspects that he enjoyed. He had heard about some lawyers in America who were arguing for women’s rights. That seemed like it could be interesting. But no, his grandfather worked in business law, which was just another way of saying they worked to make sure big businesses didn’t have to pay their workers fairly or follow the same rules as everyone else. </p><p>Maybe he should talk to his father about his feelings. Surely there were other things he could do that would be just as respectable as being a lawyer. He did like to draw, and there were lots of respectable artists in the world that were invited to all sorts of parties. Even if his father didn’t go for the whole ‘artist’ angle, maybe a scientist! He did like his science courses, especially astronomy, in school and it was another respectable field. </p><p>Tomorrow, his drunk brain decided, he would talk to his father and discuss other options. Luc was right, he had to start living for himself and his future, not for some pre-planned destiny his grandfather and father cooked up. He was an individual! He had his own hopes and dreams! He was an adult now! It was time his father recognized that and let him be his own person.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Who thinks this conversation with his father will go well? I do! I think it'll go great and there'll be a happy ending for all!</p><p>The next two chapters are going to be from Crowley's point of view, so enjoy this little trip back to London.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Parents are Supposed to Support their Children... Right?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was a miracle Anthony got home in one piece. It was also a miracle that he managed to get in the door without alerting his father to his less than savory nighttime activities. Someone of his standing should know better than to galivant around London until the wee hours of the morning, drinking like some sort of low-class sailor. </p><p>Of course, it was probably less of a miracle and more to do with the fact that the servants of the household would help him out. It wasn’t out of any sort of love or affection. No, if James Crowley had discovered that Anthony had been wandering around drunk, everyone would be in trouble and suffer. Sometimes, it was just easier to sneak Anthony in than to face the wrath of Mr. Crowley. </p><p>Anthony didn’t much care, however, about the fears of the staff. He had much more important things in his mind. The conversation with Luc had wormed its way into his head and refused to leave. </p><p>His father was never going to go for the artist angle, no matter how many paintings and decorations he bought. Art was a useless occupation, even if he did partake in it almost every day. </p><p>The scientist angle was better, but it was still going to be a long shot. True, scientists were respectable people, but they were hardly the money makers that politicians and lawyers were. </p><p>Perhaps a businessman? </p><p>There was a sort of romantic notion of being a businessman, traveling to exotic countries and figuring out all the ways to get someone to buy something. China was supposed to be a pretty big market, what with all the silks and vases. And, if he were a businessman traveling all the time, perhaps he could draw. Not much to do on a train besides reading (which he wasn’t a big fan of) and painting. </p><p>Okay, that was what he would suggest. He could use his lawyer skills to persuade his father to let him go into business and then paint whilst on trains and boats. His grandfather probably wouldn’t be happy, but if Anthony could frame this whole venture in a way that benefited everyone, he might just get away with it. </p><p>He put on his best suit, combed his hair like his father always wanted, and spent the morning preparing his arguments. </p><p>His father was in his study, preparing for some big case. Perhaps Anthony should wait until there were no big cases?</p><p>No, that wouldn’t work. There was always a big case to be worked on. All his father ever did was work. </p><p>Perhaps he should just let this whole thing go. There were fun parts of being a lawyer. He liked the sneaky, conniving nature that required him to trick witnesses into admitting something unsavory. </p><p>Maybe he could convince his father to let him work at another law firm to ‘prove’ that nepotism wasn’t playing a role!</p><p>No. He had to stand his ground. He had to start taking his life into his own hands. He wasn’t a child anymore. He was a young man who had his own hopes and dreams and fears. His father couldn’t and shouldn’t control him anymore. </p><p>It was now or never. </p><p>Anthony pulled his shoulders back, stood up as straight as possible, and made his way to the study. It was now or never. </p><p>He was his father. </p><p>He wasn’t giving up law altogether.</p><p>He just wanted to explore other options. </p><p>“Sir?” he said, knocking on the door and looking in. </p><p>Mr. Crowley was surrounded by thick law books and papers. The lights were flickering as he hunched over the desk. </p><p>“What is it, Anthony?” He sounded tired, exhausted. Maybe he should have done this in the morning at breakfast. Did anyone argue over breakfast? Or were they all too tired? </p><p>Shit, he had waited too long to respond. Mr. Crowley was going to get angry. Just do it. Just walk in there like a man and do it. You’re not giving up law altogether. You’re just exploring other options.</p><p>“I was wondering if I could talk to you…” He swallowed. He must be sick. His throat wasn’t working properly. “About… about my future.” </p><p>Mr. Crowley stopped writing and looked up. “What about your future?” </p><p>It was a test. He wanted to know what Anthony was going to say. He could still back down. He could still live his life as it was planned from the moment he was born. </p><p><em>Seriously, Anthony, what do you want to do with your life?</em> Luc's voice came floating back into his head. </p><p>Why did he have to follow along with this plan? Why was he unable to live his life the way he wanted? Why did a bunch of old men decide his fate before he even learned to talk? He deserved at least some say in what happened to him. If he was going to one day take over the firm, he deserved to be treated like an adult who could make his own decisions. </p><p>There was a fire burning in him now as he sauntered into the room. He didn’t deserve to have any choice. He didn’t deserve to be a mindless puppet. He deserved a say. </p><p>“I want to look at other options other than becoming a lawyer.” The words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. </p><p>Mr. Crowley’s face remained still as stone. “What do you mean?” </p><p>He had to use his lawyer skills now. He wasn’t giving up on the whole law thing altogether. He was just exploring other options. </p><p>“I believe that my skills might be better suited to other enterprises. With you and grandfather as lawyers, you can expand your interests if I were to do something else, such as business or politics.” He <em>did not</em> want to go into politics. It was quite possibly the last thing he ever wanted to do. But he threw it in there, just in case. </p><p>Mr. Crowley was silent for several minutes. Anthony wanted to speak up, to continue arguing his case, but the more he argued the less likely he was to win him over. He had to stay silent now. He had to wait for the rebuttal before figuring out how to proceed. </p><p>“I cannot believe how selfish you are.” Mr. Crowley’s voice was low, dangerous, almost a growl. </p><p>“Excuse me?” Anthony furrowed his brow. Out of all the responses he was expecting, that was not one of them. </p><p>“After all I’ve done for you, after all I’ve given up for you, and now you want to throw it all away.” </p><p>“Now, hold on just a minute,” Anthony didn’t know why the mere mention of him potentially going into politics made him selfish, but he didn’t understand what the big deal was. </p><p>“I am an adult and as such, I should be able to make my own choices.” </p><p>Mr. Crowley slammed his hands on the table and stood up so forcefully, his chair tumbled back and clattered to the ground. “You ungrateful little bastard, I’ve given up so much for you, and yet here you are wanting to throw that all away? And for what?” </p><p>“I’m not throwing anything away!” He was hoping to argue this like he would a case, but emotion was overtaking him and he couldn’t manage to regain control. This was his father, someone who was supposed to love him unconditionally. Here he was yelling at him because Anthony didn’t live up to what he wanted. </p><p>“You have no idea of the sacrifices I’ve made.” </p><p>“I never asked you to make those sacrifices! I’m not even saying I won’t become a lawyer; I just want to explore other options.” </p><p>“There are no other options!” Mr. Crowley yelled, the veins in his forehead throbbing and spittle flying across the room. </p><p>“What do you mean there are no other options?” <em>Quit pressing. Quit asking questions. Apologize and try and fix the mess you’ve made.</em></p><p>“After everything I’ve sacrificed, after everything I’ve done, and you want to throw it all away.” </p><p>What was he talking about? Anthony didn’t want to throw away anything. He just didn’t want to be stuck in a job he had no interest in. </p><p>Blinded by rage and hurt, he did the only thing he thought possible. He turned on his heel and left. His father was shouting at him to come back. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t be a part of this anymore. If his father didn’t want to admit he wasn’t a mindless puppet, then he wouldn’t come back. He was a smart young man with talents and skills. He could figure out something. </p><p>The staff seemed to part like the Red Sea as he stormed out of the house. No one tried to stop him. No one said anything. They were just hired help. Even his nannies and tutors didn’t care about him. No one cared about him and what he wanted. They were all using him for their own plans and their own needs. He wasn’t going to be a part of it anymore. </p><p>He didn’t realize where he was going, where he was headed. It was only when he stopped at a familiar grave did he finally realize what had just happened. </p><p>He sank to his knees on the damp earth, staining his pants with mud and grass. </p><p>“Hello, mother,” he said, tears springing to his eyes. He didn’t think his father had ever visited the grave. As far as Anthony knew, the only time he came was to put Mrs. Crowley in the ground. </p><p>He didn’t remember a lot of his mother. She always seemed distant, not there. It was almost like his parents were putting on a play, showing the world the façade of a happy couple, but once the audience had left, they were listless, unable to function without some sort of spotlight on them. </p><p>When he was younger, he thought the world of his mother, especially after her death. She was a princess who was kind with a lovely singing voice and who told the best stories. Now that he was older and he had come to terms with the fact that she was just… there. Honestly, he didn’t even remember if she had ever sung to him. </p><p>If she was alive now, she likely wouldn’t be comforting him. She would either take his father’s side or just be like a painting, in the background but not contributing to the situation. </p><p>That wasn’t what he wanted now. That wasn’t what he needed now. </p><p>He needed those mothers from stories that loved their kids and took interests in their lives. He wanted those mothers that would wipe away tears and give advice, no matter his age. He wanted someone in this goddamn world that would support and love him unconditionally. </p><p>So, he pretended. Just this once, he pretended that the woman from his eight-year-old mind was real. </p><p>He leaned back against the gravestone, tears flowing freely now. “Hello, mum. I think I made a mistake, but I don’t know what it was. Father was very angry.” </p><p>It was cold out here, and loud in the way that only empty wilderness could be. </p><p>“I just… I just wanted to explore other options. I wanted to see if there was something else I would like better. It wasn’t like I wanted to become a boxer or circus clown. My options were politician and businessman. Why didn’t he listen?” </p><p>What would a kind mother from a story say to this? She would say ‘I love you and support you.’ Perhaps ‘Your father is stressed. He’ll calm down and see the error of his ways and we can talk about this as a family.’ </p><p>He sighed and curled up at the foot of the gravestone. For the second night in a row, Anthony James Crowley slept outside. </p><p>oOoOoOo</p><p>Morning came as did the sun, a rare occurrence for this time of the year. But it’s warming rays woke up Anthony nonetheless. His back and neck were stiff from the awkward position he had slept in. He couldn’t feel his fingers or toes. He was slightly damp from the dew that covered him during the night. </p><p>He had slept horribly and probably looked horrible. His head hurt and his throat was parched. He looked down the path that led back to his house. Surely, hours later, his father would change his mind? Or at least, be calmer to explain his side of the story… right? </p><p>Anthony got to his feet and stumbled back to the house. There was only one way to find out. He didn’t have to be so nervous. Luc had done way worse things than suggest he wanted to go into politics and it took his parents years to finally have enough of him and his attitude. </p><p>And he was pretty sure Asmo and Baph were way worse than him. His father had to forgive him. Then again, what was there to forgive? Anthony made a suggestion, that was all. </p><p>He got to the front door and went to grab the handle. It opened before he could reach it and he saw the butler standing in the door, a grim look on his face. </p><p>“I’m so sorry, Anthony.” </p><p>“What?” </p><p>“Master Crowley…” The butler sighed. “He has requested we keep you out of the house for the time being.” </p><p>Anthony blinked. It took him a minute to understand the weight of the words. “What do you mean? Why?” </p><p>The butler shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t understand it myself.” He turned and pulled a small suitcase from behind the door. “I packed a few of your things and some money to hopefully get you situated until he calms down. Please, do not do anything foolish in the meantime.” </p><p>Anthony took the suitcase from his hands, still dumbstruck by what he was hearing. </p><p>“I’m truly sorry, Anthony. I hope he gets over this soon.” The door closed on his face, leaving him out in the cold once more.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. What Not to Do When You Lose Everything</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Fun Fact: some of the slang in this chapter is actually from the 1910s and not the 1920s. Crowley’s been in Egypt for about 5 years and is about 26 when the main story takes place. It’s 1922 which means that he came over in 1917, right during World War 1. I wonder why he wasn’t drafted into the army… (Ezra was never drafted because he was going to medical school at the time and it could be viewed as civilian work of national importance… I think, I’m not a WW1 UK historian so maybe that wouldn’t have been good enough for the Conscription Act.)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There are many rules around drinking so that one does not look like a blotto. Only drink at certain times. Only drink so much of a certain type of alcohol. Only drink a certain type of alcohol. And so on, and so on, and so on. </p><p>Currently, Anthony was following none of these rules. He didn’t care that it was ten in the morning on a Tuesday. He didn’t care that he had spent most of his money on hooch getting jazzed like he had nothing else to worry about. </p><p>If he were a responsible adult, he would take the money, get a hotel, and think about his next steps. He had a bit of an education. He could probably find work somewhere, even if just a part-time job at a restaurant. </p><p>“Wonder what grandfather would think if I were to become a waiter,” he slurred. The alcohol was already starting to affect his brain. The pleasant buzz had worn off and was now replaced with depression, anxiety, and terror for the future. All his life he had been completely and totally controlled by his father. He had followed along with the plan to a T and now that he had made one mention of maybe, possibly, theoretically, doing something else with his life, he was kicked out; stripped of all that he had known in a matter of seconds. </p><p>Did his father even care about him? Had he ever cared about him? Or had he only wanted the picture of a perfect English family: mother, father, and two kids, preferably a boy and a girl? It was a sobering thought. </p><p>"I didn't even want to change that much," he muttered. </p><p>"Wow, you look awful," Luc said, sliding next to him. </p><p>"Are you real or just a hallucination?" Anthony asked. His brain was already more than fuzzy and he wanted to make sure before he made an utter fool out of himself. </p><p>"I'm real, mate," Luc said. "Real as that hangover's gonna be tomorrow morning. You always were a lightweight, Anthony."</p><p>"What do you want?" </p><p>"I want to know what happened." </p><p>"How did you even find me?" He didn't want to talk about what happened. He was mortified. Luc would probably think him pathetic, getting kicked out and then immediately getting drunk like he actually liked his father or something. </p><p>"Bartender called me. Wanted me to pick you up before you made a mess. Come on, I've got a room at the Ritz." He pulled Anthony out of the chair and slung an arm over his shoulder, steadying him as they walked out of the pub. </p><p>"I need to pay my tab," he said, twisting back to throw some money on the counter. </p><p>"Don't worry about it. I've already taken care of it. Let's just get you out of here so we can think about what we're going to do next. It's unbecoming to get drunk before noon, Anthony. Hasn't your father ever told you that?" </p><p>"Doesn't matter what he thinks." He muttered. "Kicked me out. I followed your advice to ask about other options and he went mental."</p><p>"What options did you suggest." There was something off about Luc. Even though they had been friends for quite a while, Anthony never felt fully comfortable around him. He always felt as if Luc was planning something, using him for something. While it was true that Luc never actually caused him any harm, his brain constantly screamed at him that being around Luc was a bad idea. </p><p>He tended not to care too much about what his brain thought. After all, Luc had never done anything to hurt him, so surely it was just him overreacting to nothing. </p><p>"Business and politics." He said. Luc dragged him through the door and over to the stairs. "How can you afford all of this anyways. Thought your parents kicked you out too." </p><p>"They did, but I got myself some investors." </p><p>"Investors?" </p><p>"Yes, that's actually what I want to talk to you about when you sober up. You're on your own now, you need to make money, I have a plan that will get you enough to live a cushy lifestyle no matter what your dream is." </p><p>"What's it?" </p><p>Luc tossed him onto the bed and removed his shoes. "After you've sobered up. I don't want to have to explain this all again in a few hours because you're too smashed to remember your right from your left." </p><p>"If you say so." Maybe it was because of the alcohol. Maybe it was because of the stress. Maybe it was because Anthony had spent the previous evening curled up and shivering on his mother's grave and was now on a bed softer than the clouds. Whatever the case, with a yawn, he turned to his side and fell into a dreamless sleep. </p><p>oOoOoOo</p><p>"How bad's the hangover?" Luc asked, handing him a glass of water. </p><p>Anthony was glad the butler had packed some sunglasses for him. His head was pounding. "I feel like shit." </p><p>"You look like shit." </p><p>"What was this business proposition investment thing you mentioned earlier?" His life was already in shambles; he needed a plan and he needed it now.</p><p>While it was true that Luc was a shifty bastard, he was a good businessman. If anyone had the potential to get everything taken away from him and then use that to transform into a profitable empire, it was Luc. Right now, Anthony was desperate. He had barely any money and nowhere to go. Luc could suggest they get into opium and he'd probably take it. </p><p>"Egypt." Luc grinned, his eyes glittering with promise. </p><p>"Egypt? Like becoming Egyptian politicians?" Anthony had never really thought about Egypt before. He wasn't even sure he could point to it on a map. </p><p>"Not politicians. I never want to go near a political dinner again." Luc grimaced. "No, we're going to do some treasure hunting." </p><p>"Treasure hunting?" This did not sound like the Luc he knew. For one, treasure hunting sounded like a child's dream, something thought up in the schoolyard whilst digging in the dirt. Also, it seemed too temperamental; there was a possibility of not getting any return on their investments. That kind of risk didn’t sound like Luc. </p><p>"Yep. Ever since they found that bleeding tomb there's been a rush to discover other treasure of Egypt.  Imagine, Anthony, all that gold and jewels just sitting below ground, waiting to be grabbed by us."</p><p>"And this is going to make us money how?" </p><p>Luc shrugged. "Easy, museums will pay a fortune to add it to their collection. Imagine how much that British Museum or American Museum is going to give us for some trinkets. Hundreds of thousands."</p><p>He stood up and started to pace, his brow furrowed with concentration. "And, it's not just museums. Private collectors all over the world will be wanting their fill. I hear there are some Ottoman sultans that would love to get their hands on a piece of history." </p><p>Anthony frowned. "I don't know. It sounds like grave robbing. How would you like it if someone dug up your nan because she was buried with a gold necklace?" </p><p>"If my nan was buried with millions of pounds worth of gold and jewels, I'd say go for it. Hell, I'd help dig her up myself." </p><p>He still didn't feel right with this whole thing. This wasn't just trinkets left over, this was an entire civilization. There was something... unsettling about selling it off to the highest bidder in other countries. Wouldn't it be better to stay in Egypt where the government could use it to educate their children about their history? </p><p>Luc sat back down on the bed. "Don't tell me you're really not considering this opportunity? You've always wanted to travel and this could be your ticket. One good score and you could be set for life. You could go anywhere, do anything. I know you don't want to be a politician or a businessman. Even when you try to take control of your life, you still try to please your father." </p><p>The words hurt and Anthony looked down at his hands. </p><p>"Look around you, Anthony. Do you really think he's ever going to be pleased? You were winning cases when you were twelve and he still kicked you out after one conversation." </p><p>Luc dug around in his bag and handed Crowley a small packet wrapped in leather and tied in string. He undid the knot and revealed a small case with pencils, charcoal, and other art supplies. </p><p>"When's the last time you actually drew something?"</p><p>It had been close to a decade at this point. Grandfather thought he was spending too much of his free time painting and not enough on cases. </p><p>"Look," Luc stood back up. "I won't make you a partner or anything. But come with me to Egypt, do one little job, and then decide if you're going to continue. What do you have to lose?" </p><p>He held out his hand, smiling down at him. </p><p>Anthony felt confused, torn between so many thoughts and feelings. </p><p>"I--" Could he even say no? Could he even say yes? "I need some time to think." </p><p>Luc shook his head. "Boat leaves tomorrow. Asmo and Baph already have their tickets. Sorry, Anthony. You have to make a decision now." </p><p>He still had all his money. He could refuse Luc's offer and get a job at a cafe or something. Or he could work for a rival firm. That would really piss off father. He didn't have to take Luc's hands. He didn't have to accept this deal. </p><p>But working as a lawyer, even for a rival firm? Was that really the only option he had? He could see himself, thirty years from now, clawing his way to the top to make partner, still unhappy and living life exactly as it had been planned since birth. Staying in London, it didn't seem like an option. At least, Luc didn't make it seem like an option. </p><p>His head was still pounding from the alcohol. He was still tired, and off-balance from all the changes that had happened in his life in the past twenty-four hours. </p><p>"Alright." He shook Luc's hand. "One job. That's it." </p><p>"That's the spirit." Luc grinned, and Anthony couldn't help but feel like he had just made a deal with the devil. "I'll go grab your ticket. Where's your money?" </p><p>He gestured to the small suitcase in the corner of the room. He should feel happy. He should feel elated. He had just been offered a fantastic chance to finally live his life on his own terms. He had just been offered a chance at freedom. </p><p>Somehow, it didn't feel that way. </p><p>oOoOoOo</p><p>The boat ride was uncomfortable. Because Crowley had waited too long to buy his ticket, Luc was only able to get him a place in the third class. When Crowley argued that he hadn't even known about the deal before yesterday, Luc waved him off and went to sit with the others in the first-class lounge.</p><p>There were some interesting people in the third-class. Being from a respectable upper-class British family meant Anthony never fraternized with the poor unless of course, they were doing something for him. But he had no choice now. Besides, he didn't want to come across as too good for these people. Many of them had more money than him at the moment. Many of them were more gainfully employed as well. </p><p>This whole breaking into a temple thing still didn't sit right with Anthony. The people were dead, they weren't going to use any of that gold anymore. Besides, surely the British Museum wouldn't do something immoral. If they were alright with it, then he should be too. </p><p>It didn't matter now. It was only one temple. One score. If he didn't like it, he never had to do it again. He could do something else with his life. He was free now. </p><p>"Glad to finally see you again after all that time," Luc said, clapping Anthony on the back as they met up at the dock. </p><p>"You could have come down," he grumbled. He was still a bit testy that not one of his mates actually came down to talk to him. He couldn't go up to the first-class area, he had tried on the first night. But surely, they could have come down. </p><p>"No, sorry mate. They're pretty strict about these things." </p><p>"Hope the rats weren't too bad," Asmo sneered. </p><p>Anthony had a strong urge to punch him in the face. He resisted. </p><p>"Alright, boys," Luc said, pulling out a notebook. "We're going to get supplies today and then tomorrow set off. There's a temple not too far from here. It should only be about a day's travel away. Let's head to the hotel and get set up." </p><p>Anthony glanced over his shoulder. He could just make out the tips of the great Pyramids on the horizon. He was really here. He was really doing it. It was kind of amazing that just last week something like this had been an impossibility, but now it was here, clear as day. </p><p>Getting set up for the trip had been relatively easy. Luc had already taken care of most of the logistics. The only thing he had to do was buy what he was told. He didn't speak Arabic, though, so trying to barter his way through the food stalls was turning out to be a rather big challenge. The stall owners were probably laughing at him for how much he was ripped off. The sun was already starting to burn his fair skin and his clothes, perfect for the British weather, were becoming much too hot. Still, all his money was still with Luc, to be used for supplies, so he couldn't afford to buy even a lighter shirt. </p><p>"Some adventure this turned out to be." He just hoped he wouldn't die of heatstroke before he even got to the temple. That would be a terrible way to go and wouldn't prove anything to his father. </p><p>Like with the boat, because of Anthony's last-minute addition, Luc was unable to secure him a nice room at a decent hotel. Instead, he got him something that could lovingly be called a dump in what was probably a slum. </p><p>"Surely, there must be somewhere in Egypt that can take my money," Crowley said, looking at the shack that appeared to be standing because of nothing more than sheer force of will if shacks could even have will. </p><p>"Sorry, as I said, if I had known you were coming earlier, I would have arranged better accommodations for you. Besides, you don't want to blow all your money on a hotel. What if you need to buy a boat ticket back? You wouldn't want to be stuck in Egypt for the rest of your life." Luc turned and left him on the streets of Cairo, still with the suitcase he had been given the day he left home. He swallowed and stepped forward. A room was a room and he had very little worth stealing so hopefully he'd wake up with all of his things. </p><p>He didn't wake up with all of his things. His suitcase was stolen sometime during the night. As of this point, Anthony James Crowley had nothing but the clothes on his back and the vague hope that he'd find something that would give him a ticket back to Europe.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Maybe Listen to Your Gut Next Time, Crowley</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Remember to mail in your ballots by October 20th if you're in the US! If you're not mailing in your ballots, make a plan to vote November 3rd!  </p><p>If you're not in the US, grab some popcorn, the dumpster fire is just getting started.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Here we are," Luc said, stopping the camels at what appeared to be a pile of rubble. </p><p>Crowley was starting to despise his friends. Everyone else was dressed for the weather. They had clean, linen clothes, wide-brimmed hats, and sturdy shoes that were meant for sand. He was still wearing his heavy trousers, shoes, and a jumper that hadn't been washed in almost a week. </p><p>Luc and the others refused to hire a guide for the camels, paying for them outright, despite the owner urging them to get someone more experienced. </p><p>“We don’t need some Arab stealing our treasure,” he explained to Crowley when he pointed out that the man who rented out camels for a living probably knew what they needed better than they did. </p><p>Luc, Bap, and Asmo didn’t even touch the camels. Crowley nearly got his head taken off by one of them after accidentally stepping on his foot. Somehow, he had managed to wrestle the gear onto the camels (without any help from his ‘friends’) and took charge of leading them. He was sweaty, hot, and tired. </p><p>Luc looked like he was merely on holiday and was just going for a pleasant ramble. He didn’t even thank Crowley for figuring out how to deal with the camels. He made no apologies for the fact that he was robbed. And he refused to give Crowley back any money, saying he had spent it all on supplies and camels. </p><p>Crowley hated to say it, hated to even think it, but he was starting to feel like the reason he was here was that he was expendable, not because Luc wanted to help a friend in need. The only thing he had to his name was the clothes on his back and his sunglasses. Hell, if they found anything at the tomb, Luc probably wouldn’t let him take anything. He’d have to pocket something, even just a ring, and pawn it off so he could get out of here and back home. </p><p>He’d come crawling back to his father on his knees and beg for forgiveness. He’d never think about another career path again. He’d do anything he wanted. He just wanted to go home. </p><p>"Looks like just a stone pillar," Bap said, squinting at the pillar in the sand. The hieroglyphs on the pillar were faded and chipped, their meaning lost to time. </p><p>"Well the tomb's not going to be on top of the sand, you idiot," Asmo said. </p><p>Crowley rolled his eyes and patted the neck of the lead camel, Marie. Even though it had been a rough start with these three, he was starting to come around to them. Maybe because his friends were being massive wankers, so he naturally felt himself drawn towards creatures who weren’t treating him like a servant. They were awkward-looking things with spindly legs and massive bodies, but they seemed smart. They seemed to contain some sort of rationality one didn't find often in animals, including humans. The camels also spat at Asmo, Luc, and Bap so they were also good judges of character. </p><p>"This is just marking the entrance," Luc said, circling the stone. "We just need to figure out how to open it." </p><p>"What happens if there's more treasure down there than we can carry?" Bap asked. </p><p>"We let my investors know and they can send out a team to finish the excavation. Then we get a cut of whatever they manage to sell. Come on, start digging. We need to find the entrance to this thing soon." </p><p>"Why?" Crowley asked though he did start sifting through the sand, trying to find something that would indicate an entrance." </p><p>"I don't want to sleep out here tonight, do you?" He asked. </p><p>At least out here, Crowley had a chance of waking up with his shoes. He didn't voice this. Luc was an annoying git and Crowley could see now why his father never wanted him hanging out with this pompous wanker. </p><p>His hand brushed over something hard and he yanked it back as if it had been burned by fire. He looked around, Asmo and Bap were also digging, Luc was by the pillar looking at, probably looking for clues. Or maybe he was just being lazy and making them do all the work. Hell, at this point he was surprised Luc wasn’t having them fan him with giant leaves and hand-feed him peeled grapes. </p><p>Crowley turned back and brushed his hand over the spot again. As he moved the sand, he appeared to be uncovering something rough and shaped like a door. He opened his mouth to call to the guys, but something stopped him. There was something off about this door to this tomb or temple or whatever it was. Something in his mind was telling him to walk away. </p><p>"Wow, Luc, look what Crowley found!" Asmo called. Crowley hadn't even heard him come over. </p><p>"Why didn't you let us know, Anthony?" Luc said, coming to kneel beside him. </p><p>"I didn't know what it was and wanted to make sure before I called everyone over," he lied. "Luc, what exactly was this place?" he asked. Maybe if he knew its purpose, he wouldn't feel so bad. </p><p>"Some temple to some goddess. I don't know." </p><p>"Well come on, let's get it uncovered and opened," Bap said, starting to dig around even more. </p><p>Crowley looked around. "Where's the rest of the temple?" he wondered aloud. Bap was right, a tomb would be underground. But a temple, that should be above ground. </p><p>"I have a bad feeling about this," he said. </p><p>"Quit being such a coward and help us open this thing," Luc snapped. </p><p>Crowley sighed and continued to dig in the sand. There was no such thing as Egyptian curses. There was no such thing as magic or goddesses or any of that nonsense. </p><p>"Wow," Luc breathed, standing up and looking down at the massive door they had uncovered. </p><p>There were the remnants of a rope still in place and the hieroglyphics could still be made out. </p><p>Crowley couldn't remember the last time he felt like he was truly in awe of something, but this, this was something to gawk at. The craftsmanship, the detail, the fact they did this all with chisels and tools, it was amazing. </p><p>"It's beautiful," he whispered. </p><p>Luc nudged him forward. "Well, since you found it, you get to open it." </p><p>Crowley's eyes snapped up to him. "What?" </p><p>"Yeah, it's only fair," Asmo said. </p><p>"Go on, do it." Bap pressed. </p><p>Crowley knelt back down at the door, sweat dripping from his sunburned brow, his heart pound. </p><p><em>Do not open it</em>. He ignored the voice in his head. There was nothing to be afraid of. </p><p><em>This is your last warning. </em> What? The voice in his head didn’t sound like the voice in his head. His hand reached for the handle. </p><p><em>You will suffer the consequences. </em> With a tug, the remaining ropes snapped and the door swung open. Pain like nothing he had ever felt flooded his body. He might have been screaming, he couldn't tell. </p><p>His eyes, it hurt worst of all in his eyes. Everything was going to bright white, his body contorting and bending in unnatural ways. Where were Luc and the others? What were they doing during all of this? Were they also in pain and writhing on the ground like a snake? </p><p>Finally, finally, the pain subsided, but it was still too much. Before Crowley fully grasped what had just happened, he blacked out. </p><p>oOoOoOo</p><p>When he woke up, it was light outside. But that wasn't the odd thing. </p><p>No, the odd thing was that Crowley was completely naked.</p><p>He coughed. it felt like his body had been rung out, stretched beyond what it could naturally do. </p><p>Luc and the others were nowhere to be found. The camels were nowhere to be found. </p><p>He was alone.</p><p>For some reason, he didn't seem too bothered by this. Maybe because he was currently naked in the Sahara. Perhaps his mind decided to focus on other things rather than the fact that his 'friends' had left him here. </p><p>His clothes were in a pile not far from where he woke up. Body sore and aching, he crawled over the hot sand, burning the skin that touched it. </p><p>"I have to get back to Cairo." He said, his voice raspy from dehydration. </p><p>"I can't die out here." Once his clothes were on, he stood up and looked around. There was nothing but sand for miles, everything looked the same. If he chose the wrong direction, he could end up lost forever. Would anyone ever find his body? Would they figure out who he was and let his father know? </p><p>He didn't like the man, especially after what had happened the past few days, but it still made him ill to think about him alone, never knowing what happened. </p><p>There was something in his brain that was telling him to go left. It was a slight nudge, an urge that was difficult to ignore. </p><p>He stood there, looking to the left. There was nothing particularly interesting about the left, nothing of note that would sway him one way or another. And yet... his gut was telling him to go left. </p><p>He had never listened to his gut before. He didn't listen to it when it warned him about Luc. He didn't listen to it when it warned him about the tomb, temple, thing, and look at where that got him. Stranded in the desert without even a flask to parch his thirst. </p><p>He swallowed and set off towards the left. Perhaps he should have stayed put. Maybe Luc and the others were going to get help. Perhaps he should be going right, after all, right was not so different from left. Perhaps he should have done a million things differently but didn't because he was awful about taking charge of his own life. </p><p>Yes, that was the problem, wasn't it? All his life other people had told him what to do when to do it, and how to do it. Other people had been in control of him from the moment he was born. Luc told him what to do. Grandfather told him what to do. Father told him what to do. He had never made a choice purely for himself. It probably wasn't a good thing that he was unable to function in this world without someone barking orders at him from somewhere. </p><p>"If I do make it back to Cairo, that's it. I'm going to start living for myself and no one else. No more Luc and his weird ideas. No more father and his unrealistic expectations. No more grandfather and his disssappointment. It'sss jussst me now." </p><p>Was he hissing? His tongue felt weird in his mouth. Maybe a side-effect of the concussion or dehydration or whatever the hell was wrong with him. </p><p>He kept walking, one foot in front of the other for the entire day. He was making a pretty good pace, at least he thought he was, and his gut kept telling him which direction to go, occasionally causing him to course correct. It was really weird. He never had a great sense of direction growing up, and now here he was wandering around the Sahara like he knew what was going on. </p><p>Things weren't adding up. </p><p>The sun was beginning to dip low in the sky and he wondered what he should do. Cairo was only a day's trip away when they were leaving, but if he was out for several hours, there'd be no way he'd make it. The desert did get cold at night, sometimes below freezing. He remembered reading that in a book somewhere. Should he keep walking and hope that the movement would be enough to stave off his body heat? </p><p>His gut was telling him to burrow himself in the sand. </p><p>Weird, but it would provide some insulation for the night. </p><p>But if he was only a few miles from Cairo, surely continuing would be a good idea. Granted, he now had no money, no clothes, no suitcase, but sleeping under a doorframe was going to be a lot more comfortable than burying yourself in the sand. </p><p>He continued to walk. Perhaps he could find the Cairo police and file a complaint about Luc and the others. Or maybe the British Embassy? There had to be some way for him to get back home. </p><p>The sun was even lower now. Stars were starting to appear in the sky. His back was starting to feel funny. Maybe it was all this walking. He wasn't used to trying to walk across sand. His muscles were probably compensating in ways they hadn't need to before. </p><p>His face was starting to itch and his legs were getting shaky. He was dehydrated and weak. He needed to get some water and rest. </p><p>He reached up to scratch his face. The skin felt... weird. He yanked his hand away just in time for his back to spasm and his legs to give out completely. He let out a cry and his body began to writhe and twist around. </p><p>What was happening? Was he having a seizure? His legs and arms lost all feeling, his muscles felt like they were twisting and his whole body was burning. It didn't hurt, but it didn't feel good. He was letting out guttural grunts and cries as he continued to flop on the sand. He tried to force his arm into his line of sight, just to see if he was still human if he was still normal. He had to see that he was still normal. </p><p>He couldn't move it. He tried to move his legs but they moved together, and not separately. He tried to sit up and see what was going on, but it was all too much. He sat there, twitching and writhing for what felt like hours. </p><p>When he stopped, the sun was now completely below the horizon and the sky was dotted with stars. </p><p>His body felt funny. It felt weird. He tried to sit up but his arms didn't move. His neck felt more flexible and there was something wrong with his eyesight. He was also a lot closer to the ground. He could feel the sand on his underbelly. Everything was weird and distorted. His hearing was weird, his eyes were weird, and his mouth was weird. </p><p>"I warned you." </p><p>He jumped and whipped around, trying to see who was speaking. </p><p>"I warned you and you did not heed my warning, Anthony James Crowley." The voice was deep and seemed to be both masculine and feminine at the same time. It sounded old, older than the Earth itself, but not frail. No, this age brought with it power. </p><p>"Look upon yourself and see what you are." The dessert disappeared and Crowley was in a room full of mirrors, except, he couldn't see himself. All he could see was a giant, black snake with yellow eyes and a red underbelly. He stared at it, afraid that if he moved the snake would lunge at him, and kill him. </p><p>"You have desecrated my temple and now you must pay the price. When the first stars appear in the sky, you will transform into the treacherous snake you are. You will become something so vile that no one will want to be near you. You will show the world that you are nothing more than a greedy serpent." </p><p>He turned his head, trying to find the owner of the voice. The snake turned its head to. Everything Crowley did the snake copied. </p><p>Was he... No. No. No! He couldn't be! He couldn't! It was impossible. </p><p><em>I didn't mean to!</em> The words didn't come out, instead, a long hiss escaped from his lips. <em>I was just the one who opened it!</em> </p><p>The room was spinning. His body felt like it was on fire and he could breathe. </p><p>
  <em>Why am I the only one who got punished? What about Luc</em>
</p><p>The glass shattered and rained down upon him, though nothing stabbed into his body. He fell, plummeting back to the Sahara with only the name Isis ringing in his head. </p><p>He wasn't a snake! It wasn't possible! Magic and curses did not exist. Besides, it wasn't his fault. It was Luc's! Why was he the only one being punished for this? </p><p>He hit the sand and rolled down the dunes. Once again, Anthony James Crowley blacked out. </p><p>oOoOoOo</p><p>Most of the shamans or whatever they were called in Egypt wouldn't even see Crowley. </p><p>He tried to report Luc to the police, but they seemed thoroughly uninterested. </p><p>His eyes scared people. More than once he was called a demon. It was the first word he learned in Arabic. </p><p>He was cursed, a cursed man who would turn into a snake every single night. </p><p>He didn't even try to get to the British Embassy. Did he turn into a snake when it was night wherever he was, or only in Egypt? What if he went back to London and turned into a snake during a dinner party? </p><p>No, he had to figure out how to break this curse. There had to be some way to do it! That was the rule, in books. There was always a way to break the curse. In fairytales, like Beauty and the Beast, there was a true love's kiss clause or something. He was a lawyer; he could find some sort of loophole to this whole thing!</p><p>If only he could get a shaman or a priestess or someone to help him, tell him the rules so he could figure out how to legally break them. </p><p>No one would help. No one would look at him. No one acknowledged his existence. </p><p>He was in the market, begging for scraps. There weren’t a lot of places willing to hire a man with funny eyes with a general air of wrongness about him. He’d be lucky if he could afford a loaf of bread a week. He wasn’t going to last long like this. He was a shell of himself, slowly dying on the streets of Cairo. When he did die, they’d probably just shuffle him into the gutter to rot. He had seen it happen. Another beggar died last week. His corpse was still rotting in the alley. Crowley could smell it from here. He could smell so many things, especially at night. </p><p>A shadow covered his body and he looked up to see an old woman standing before him. </p><p>"You've angered the goddess Isis." She said, her voice weak and raspy. </p><p>"Yeah?" He asked, looking up at her. "Do you know how to help me?" </p><p>She studied him before speaking. "It might be a blessing."</p><p>“A blessing?” Crowley laughed. “Look at me. I’m going to die here alone, a monster. How can this be a blessing?” </p><p>She had recognized that he had been cursed by Isis. She had to know something, had to be willing to help him. </p><p>“Only the goddess Isis can break her curses.” </p><p>"How do I get her to break it?" For the first time in almost a month, he felt hope blossom in his chest. She was talking to him, helping him. He might just find a way out of this yet. </p><p>“There is only one way I know how to make a goddess do something, and that is with the Amulet of Isis. It is supposed to grant you any wish.” </p><p>Crowley got to his feet. His head spun from the sudden movement. Tonight, he would try to hunt as a snake. He didn’t like the idea of eating rats, but surely it had to be better than this.  “Where do I find this amulet?” </p><p>She shook her head. “No one knows. It was lost when the empire fell.” </p><p>Crowley couldn’t help it. He started to cry. He grasped the woman’s hands and fell to his knees. “Please, please, you have to help me. I’ll do anything. Please.” </p><p>She put a hand on his head. “I’m sorry, I cannot break the curse or tell you where the amulet is. If Isis wants you to break it, she will lead you to it.” </p><p>She stayed with him longer than she needed to. But after a while, she pushed him off and lowered him back down into the gutter. </p><p>“Go to the Southern side of Cairo, to Bes’s Bar and Club. You will find work there.” She put a hand on his cheek. “You must stay strong, Anthony. Your time for greatness will come.” </p><p>Just like that, she was gone, and Crowley was left alone once more. This time, however, this time things were different. He had information. And he was going to act on that information.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sometimes when I'm reading comments, I wonder why people aren't getting excited about certain things. Then I remember, I actually have to post the chapters. Anyways, Crowley's story took a lot longer than I had planned. It was originally supposed to be one chapter and then expanded to four so that was fun. However, after this, we are back to present(?) time and with Ezra and Crowley in the desert. </p><p>Buckle up, buttercups. This ride ain't over. yet. I hope you're ready for some pain. God, this things going to be close to 100,000 words by time I'm done.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. So...Isis is the Reason You're a Snake?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Back to Ezra! I hope everyone's having a good week. It snowed here, like a lot, yesterday so I'm going to have to deal with that (I like the winter, I just don't like driving in snow). Anyways, I hope you enjoy this next little installment.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ezra sat there, blinking, his mind trying to process what Crowley had just told him. Magic was… real? Curses were real? Egyptian gods, one of them at least, were real? This went against everything he had ever been taught, everything he had ever believed. Had he not seen Crowley transform in front of his eyes, he never would have believed it. He would have suspected Crowley of having some sort of delusion that made him think such things. And yet… Crowley was cursed by Isis to become a snake every night. </p><p>Crowley sat quietly. His dark glasses were obscuring his eyes and to an outsider, he appeared to be relaxed, calm, in control. Ezra fancied that he knew better at this point. He looked tired, haggard, worn down because of all he had been through. He should say something. He should say something to make Crowley feel better. This curse was unfair. It was unfair to punish someone so desperate to find their place in the world. It was unfair that Isis wouldn’t look at Crowley’s heart and see that he was a good person. It was all just so… so unfair! And Ezra hated it.</p><p>"I thought you said it didn't hurt?" He finally managed to blurt out. Not really what he was going for, but it was better than nothing. </p><p>His brow furrowed. "Um, no, not really. It feels more like when you're stretching and it hurts, but it's also not painful. Or like, when you sleep on your arm funny and it burns for a few minutes while the blood comes rushing back to it." </p><p>"Oh." </p><p>They lapsed back into silence. The wind was whistling around them and the sun was starting to set. They wouldn't have much longer before Crowley was a snake again. God, that sentence was weird to think. </p><p>He swallowed. Crowley looked resigned and Ezra hated to think he felt terrible. He thought back to Crowley talking to him about med school, saying that it was noble to drop out and that it was amazing he knew his limitations. Crowley had comforted him then, despite going through something much more traumatic. Ezra had to return the favor. That’s what you do when you love—care deeply—like someone. </p><p>“Oh you poor thing,” Ezra said. </p><p>Crowley’s brow furrowed. </p><p>“It’s awful what happened to you. And how Luc and the others tricked you. They were just using you; they didn’t care about you at all.” </p><p>He shrugged and looked down at the sand. “A bit too late to do anything about it now. Isis apparently didn’t see it that way.” </p><p>"And so, you want the amulet because you think it'll help change you back?" </p><p>"It's my last hope, but I don't think it exists." </p><p>"Why not?" No, it had to exist. After everything Crowley had told him, after everything he had seen and witnessed, it had to exist. Ezra had to be right. This trip was Crowley’s last chance to lead a normal life, to return home if he wanted, to do something other than fight in the mid-afternoon at a seedy fight club in the bad part of Cairo. He was too good for that. He was kind. He cared about his camels. He came to Ezra’s rescue. He reassured him when he was afraid. Crowley was an amazing person with so much to give. He deserved better than the life he was currently living. </p><p>"Because I've been all over this desert looking for it. That's why I originally hired Shadwell, to help out." Crowley took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "No, angel, no I don't think it exists. Just my luck, too. Curses are real, but the only way to break them isn't." </p><p>“But the old woman, at the market, she said—” </p><p>“I know what she said.” Crowley sighed. “But in the five years I’ve been looking, I’ve never found it. I haven’t found anyone else who knows anything about it. All the books on it are vague at best. It’s like looking for Atlantis. It’s more likely that it doesn’t exist and was just a metaphor.” </p><p>Ezra refused to believe that. Crowley was beaten down by years of failure. And since he was beaten down, Ezra would pick him up and carry on with hope. He would find a way to break this curse. He would find the amulet. He wasn’t going to let Crowley down. </p><p>"And you never found out what happened to Luc and the others?" </p><p>Crowley shook his head again. "I visited the temple a few times after, there was nothing taken. Maybe seeing me transform into a snake scared them off."</p><p>Ezra frowned and crossed his arms, glaring at the sand as if it were responsible. "Still, that was a cruel thing they did, leaving you out in the desert all by yourself. You could have died." </p><p>"Yeah, well, I was young and dumb. I trusted the wrong people." </p><p>"And I don't think Isis was very fair. I mean, from your description, it sounds like you were their lackey. It's cruel to punish those that have no other choice, like arresting a child for stealing bread because they haven't eaten in days." </p><p>He tried to remember how the Ancient Egyptians prayed to their gods and goddesses. Maybe tonight he would exchange a few words with the Mother Goddess and try and talk some sense into her. </p><p>"I don't know, angel. Maybe I'm not as innocent as you thought." </p><p>That was always a possibility. It was perfectly reasonable to expect that Crowley left out certain things from his tale. It was human nature to want to paint yourself in a more sympathetic and flattering light. Maybe he kicked puppies or something. </p><p>"Have you changed at all?" he asked. </p><p>Crowley looked up at him. The yellow snake eyes were unnatural, to say the least, but they were also beautiful, almost hypnotic in a way. Ezra wanted him to keep the glasses off. </p><p>"What do you mean?" </p><p>"I mean who you were five years ago is not who you are today. You were tricked by Luc and the others, yes, but you also did something for your own gain without thinking about the consequences. Have you changed since then?" </p><p>Crowley frowned and put the glasses back on. "I don't know, angel, I really don't. I feel like I have, but let's be honest, the only reason I'm here with you now is because I wanted to use you to get the amulet. I wasn't honest. I'm sorry." </p><p>Ezra felt like he had been punched in the gut. He hadn't considered the fact that Crowley only said yes after he realized what he was after. Perhaps his infatuation blinded him. He had somehow deluded himself into thinking that Crowley was out here because he liked Ezra. He swallowed. </p><p>He had let him get himself wrapped up in a fantasy, in a fictional romance, and expected it to play out like in his books. Crowley, the handsome rogue, would sweep him off his feet, take him away from his life of boring political talks and proper English dinner parties. They would go on many adventures around the world, maybe have some mind-blowing sex in between all the adventures. </p><p>But this wasn't a book, this was real life. Crowley was his own person with his own problem and goals. Ezra was the cruel one here for even expecting something different, for expecting Crowley to be different. </p><p>"No need to be sorry, my dear," he said, forcing himself to sound cheerful. "It sounds like a dreadful predicament you're in, transforming into a snake every night and unable to leave Egypt even if you wanted to. If I were in. your shoes, I'd look for the amulet as well. Besides, it wasn't like I was going to use it for anything. I was just going to hand it over to the Egyptian government." </p><p>He felt alone. He felt like his entire world had been tilted on its axis and he could no longer keep his balance. Things were different now, between him and Crowley. Things had changed and they had changed in a way that made Ezra feel out of control.</p><p>Crowley didn't smile at him. "I should have never taken you out here." </p><p>"Why not?" </p><p>"Curses are dangerous, Ezra. I know you say that you're going to give the amulet to the Egyptian government, but what if Isis doesn't feel the same way? What if you're punished because I agreed to this? She has already shown that she doesn’t care if other people are responsible, she’ll punish you if she feels you’ve played any part." </p><p>He was done with this conversation. His head was still hurting and his hand was still throbbing. Never before had boring dinner parties sounded so good. God, he wanted a hot bath so badly. And he wanted to eat something other than dried meat and camel milk. And he wanted to sleep on a proper bed and not the ground. Was this how his mother felt on all her adventures? Did she ever want to return home as well? </p><p>No, she was stronger than he was. She was tougher. Something like this wouldn't have phased her. She'd fight through the discomfort, probably relish in it. He should be relishing it as well. It'd make for a better story, for better characters. </p><p>He couldn't make himself do it. He was so tired. Crowley looked tired. Even the camels seemed worn out and less nippy than usual. They had been out in the desert for weeks now. Ezra had been attacked. His fiancé no longer seemed to care about him and was downright cruel to him at points. Crowley had been transforming into a snake every night for the last five years and had everything stolen from him. They were both so worn out and tired, desperate for an escape from their problems. </p><p>"Well, then, we'll just have to see, won't we. It's probably not a good thing to assume the feelings of an all-powerful goddess. Besides, you said she gave you a warning. Perhaps she'll give me one as well." </p><p>Crowley sighed. "I don't know, angel. I really don't know." He looked up at the sky and stood up. “I’m going to transform. Can I sleep with you again tonight? Your body heat helps me be more alert.” </p><p>Ezra nodded. “Of course, my dear.” He was already planning on letting Crowley sleep with him. He was glad his body heat helped the poor dear be a little more comfortable. It was rather pathetic that all he could do was heat, Crowley. He wanted to do more, he needed to do more, but he couldn’t think of how to do more. </p><p>Ezra did not fall asleep for hours. His mind was racing with disparate thoughts from all the information he had learned about. He was still afraid Hastur and Ligur were somewhere in the sands, waiting for their moment to strike. He was scared. He didn't want to admit it because it felt like such a cowardly thing to say, but he was scared. He was still trying to work through the fact that Crowley was a snake. It made no sense, but here they were. And thoughts of his mother, and how much of a disappointment must he be, were swirling around in his mind. He wished he could ask her for guidance, just once more. </p><p>Crowley's heavy body pressed down on him, making it feel like he was being hugged. When's the last time someone hugged him? Gabriel didn't enjoy a lot of affectionate gestures. He was always so proper and reserved. Crowley certainly didn't touch him except for when he was in snake form. Maybe Anathema? </p><p>He sighed and turned over to his side, staring at the wall of the tent. He couldn't turn back now. It was too late. They'd be at the temple in about a week. Then they'd get on a train and head back to Cairo. Then Ezra would return to his life.</p><p>This adventuring business, he had no business doing it. </p><p>He closed his eyes and fell into a deep and uneasy sleep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Where Will We Go Next?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Luckily, Hastur and Ligur did not make a reappearance in their final leg of the journey. They had disappeared into the desert as swiftly as they had appeared. Ezra wondered if it was because of Crowley’s snake form, or because they were plotting something else after their defeat. The unknowingness of it all made him feel jumpy, scared. Every sand dune they crested, every time they stopped, he was worried that Hastur and Ligur would be there, waiting for him. </p><p> Things were still tense between him and Crowley. Ezra had so many questions, but he got the feeling Crowley didn't really have any answers. Besides, what does one ask a man who turns into a snake every night? He didn’t know what was appropriate, what Crowley knew, and what Crowley wanted to answer.</p><p>Still, this tip-toeing around, it wasn’t doing him a lick of good. Crowley seemed to know he had questions, seemed to want him to ask them. And Ezra was so afraid of saying the wrong thing, that he had practically stopped speaking altogether. It was torture, walking in silence like this. He missed Crowley’s teasing and banter. He missed fun stories and cheerful tales. He missed being able to talk freely. It had been so long since he had felt able to do so. </p><p>He took a deep breath. He refused to fall once more into a silent decoration, seen but not heard. He deserved to speak. He deserved to ask questions. If Crowley didn’t want to answer them, then alright. But he couldn’t keep living like this. </p><p>"Are you venomous?" he blurted out whilst struggling up a particularly steep sand dune. </p><p>"What?" Crowley looked back at him, brow furrowed. </p><p>"You bit Ligur. Did you kill him?" </p><p>Crowley scoffed. "No, I'm not venomous."</p><p>"How would you know? Have you bitten people before?" </p><p>"Yeah. Some bastard tried to kill me one night and I bit him. He didn't die, though, so I figure I'm not venomous." </p><p>"Oh." </p><p>They lapsed into silence again. </p><p>"And your eyes, they never turn back?" </p><p>Crowley laughed. "About time you started asking questions, angel. No, they've never turned back, at least, I don't think they have. That's why I wear the glasses, it makes people less likely to call me a demon." </p><p>"But you're not sensitive to light?" That was what Crowley told him all those weeks ago. He didn’t know how snake eyes worked, but he assumed they weren’t sensitive to light since snakes tended to live in warm, sunny climates. </p><p>Crowley shook his head. "My eyesight's not great, way worse than before. I think it's because I'm more snake now and they don't have very good eyesight. But they do have a good sense of smell and direction." </p><p>"So that's how you've managed to traverse the desert without so much as a map." It was starting to make sense now. Ezra had always been amazed by Crowley's ability, but he wondered if it had more to do with magic than he previously thought. </p><p>"Yeah, I guess. I'd probably be dead if not for my snake sense, but even just being out here all the time, you get an idea as to where you're going. I didn’t lie to you about that bit." </p><p>The atmosphere had relaxed. Ezra had been afraid that too many questions would come across as uncouth and too personal for Crowley to answer. Instead, it seemed to have the opposite effect, it seemed to make him more comfortable. Perhaps it was because Ezra was showing that he didn't think Crowley was a monster. He didn’t think Crowley was a monster, just someone who had fallen in with the wrong crowd and made some stupid mistakes.</p><p>He couldn't blame him though, it sounded like his father was an absolute nightmare and very controlling. It was rather amazing how different their upbringing was. Ezra's mother never pressured him into any one job. She supported his interests and made sure to give him a well-rounded education. He never thought he'd be thankful for his mother's parenting style, but here he was.</p><p>He still had so many questions he wanted to ask Crowley, but he knew the man wouldn’t have the answer to even half of them. He was also starting to get worried. Before the assumption was that the temple would be relatively safe, there wouldn't be anything necessarily dangerous other than a few unsteady rocks and some grave robbing detergents. Now that he knew Isis existed, that threw everything off-kilter. </p><p>What if he got cursed as well? That would be just his luck and Gabriel would never let him live it down. </p><p>He glanced up at Crowley, still several paces ahead of him. How lonely he must be. How desperate for a solution. It must be terrible and frightening to have to live this way. </p><p>Before, he had been almost perfectly content with not finding the amulet. After all, there were still probably some shiny things to satiate his readers, or he could always lie. It was a fictional story in the end. </p><p>Now, though, now he had almost a desperate burning need to find the amulet. Perhaps he really had fallen for Mr. Crowley. He was brash, rude, crude, and could be downright snippy at times. But he was also kind, caring, and charming in his own way. Ezra had to find the amulet. No man as sweet and kind as Mr. Crowley should have to suffer for a mistake he made when he was young and desperate. Perhaps, if he didn't find the amulet, he'd spend a few days in Cairo's university, asking professors of Egyptology how to plead with the goddess Isis. Surely if someone were to plead his case, she'd listen. </p><p>He was going to break this curse if it was the last thing he did.</p><p>oOoOoOo</p><p>"Tomorrow's the day, angel," Crowley said, sitting down beside him by the tents.</p><p>"Really? Already?" Ezra fiddled with the buttons on his jacket. It felt like he had just landed in Cairo not several days prior. His hand was feeling better, though he still couldn’t use it much. He determined at least two of his fingers and his thumb were broken and had done his best to splint them together. The process was painful but Ezra was almost more worried about Crowley’s reaction than his own pain. He had never seen someone look so green while looking at someone else’s injury. Still, he'd have to have it looked at properly when they got back. </p><p>"What do you mean already? You've been out in the desert for a month." Crowley grinned, his fangs a little more pronounced than they were earlier. It must be because it was getting late. Crowley's transformation must not happen all at once. </p><p>"I know, but, it doesn't feel like any time at all has passed. It's odd, really. Back in England, I was almost desperate for the months to end, almost as if each month that passed was another chance to do something. Now that I'm out here, I must admit, I haven't been looking forward to the end of the month."</p><p>"Ah, want to spend more time with a bad influence like me? You've got a fiancé to get back to, wedding to plan, books to publish." </p><p>Ezra nodded. Yes, Gabriel and the wedding. They had been engaged for almost two years and they had yet to set a date. He didn't even wear his engagement ring anymore, it just felt silly and people asked a lot of questions he didn't have the answer to. </p><p>"I'm not sure if I'm really going to publish the book. I don't really think I'm good enough." </p><p>Crowley scoffed. "Not good enough? Nope, not having it, angel. I dragged your arse all through the desert with a pack of stubborn camels, the least you can do is publish a book." </p><p>Crowley started laughing. "Hey, if I give you my dad's address, would you send him one? I kind of want to rub it in his face what happened." </p><p>Ezra didn't say anything. He was too busy thinking, a dangerous pastime. His mind wasn't always the most accurate and he often spun little details into whole stories that didn't fit. Gabriel complained about it all the time. </p><p>He stopped laughing. "What's wrong, angel?" His voice was heartbreakingly soft and once again Ezra was faced with desire. Why couldn't Gabriel talk to him that way? Why couldn't Gabriel support him and laugh with him? Why couldn't Gabriel be Crowley?</p><p>"Have I shown you my mother's map?" He asked, desperate to get out of his head and into something more positive before Crowley got suspicious. </p><p>"No, I don't think you have." </p><p>He looked up at the sky, still no stars, so they had at least a few minutes to go. "Hold on, let me show you. And an artist such as yourself would probably love the craftsmanship." </p><p>He got to his bag and started rummaging about. "My mother was a mapmaker, the best in the whole world," he called. "She used to travel all over the world before she had me and settled down in the UK."</p><p>"Oh, so this adventurous streak runs in the family?" Crowley asked, his voice on the edge of teasing. </p><p>"I wouldn't say that," Ezra said, returning to the fire. "She was much braver than I am. She was much more willing to put herself out there and do things that scared her. Sometimes," he stared down at the map, " sometimes I wonder if she would be disappointed with how I turned out." </p><p>Crowley looked away. "I don't think she'd be disappointed. You're here, aren't you? You're doing this crazy little adventure thing so that you can write a book. Kind of a stupid reason to be disappointed, if you ask me." </p><p>He smiled and unfolded the map, smoothing it on the sand so Crowley could see it. </p><p>"Shit, that's gorgeous," Crowley said, getting on his hands and knees to look at it. "I don't think I've ever seen a map this beautiful. Your mother made this?" </p><p>Ezra nodded. "When she was pregnant with me, she spent the entire pregnancy painstakingly making the map. It's supposed to be the most accurate in the world, or at least it was when it was made. New technology and whatnot." </p><p>Crowley’s exclamation of the map’s beauty made him proud. He always loved it when people recognized his mother for the talented woman she was. </p><p>"What are these little holes?" Crowley said, his finger brushing over the hole in China.</p><p>Ezra's heart dropped. Someone like Crowley would probably hate the fact that he had stuck pins in the map, ruining the artwork. "Um, well, you see," his heart was pounding a mile a minute. This was supposed to be something they could appreciate together, not something that could cause an argument. </p><p>"When I was very small, I started to put pins in all the places I wanted to travel." </p><p>"Ah, that makes sense. I see the one that was in Cairo. Oh, there's one down in Peru. Burma. Scotland." </p><p>Crowley sat up and looked at him. "You've never been to Scotland?" </p><p>Ezra shook his head. "No, sadly. I've always wanted to go and explore the castle ruins." </p><p>"Oh, and what would the story there be?" Crowley grinned at him. </p><p>Ezra snorted. "You're teasing me." </p><p>"I'm not. I'm really curious. Come on, what's next on Ezra Fell, writer explorer Extraordinaire’s book list? Perhaps a Scottish ghost that needs to be exorcised? Maybe the Holy Grail? Viking bones that summon Thor?" </p><p>Ezra smiled and sat back. "Well, if you must know, it'd go something like this. Ezra Fell and his handsome companion would be in Scotland to look through the ruins of castles. They wouldn't be looking for the Holy Grail, that wouldn't be in Scotland, but there are supposed to be some treasures dotted around. Cu Chulainn especially is said to have left something." </p><p>"Then a ghost would pop out and we'd have to fight it," Crowley laughed. </p><p>Ezra's heart skipped a beat on 'we'. "How does one go about fighting a ghost?" </p><p>He shrugged. "Depends on the ghost, I assume. Maybe you can challenge it to a riddle battle or something." </p><p>"Oh, no!" Ezra laughed. "I'm absolutely rubbish at riddles. They're the worst because they're so random. Absolutely horrible and none of them make any sense." </p><p>"That's just what people who are bad at riddles say." Crowley countered. </p><p>"Fine, then, you can challenge the ghost to a riddle duel, I can challenge it to an actual duel with a sword." </p><p>"Are you handy with a sword?" </p><p>Ezra nodded. "Of Course I am! I took classes throughout school and loved it. I was particularly good with a Castillion growing up."</p><p>"My God, angel, you are good with words and a sword. Can you get any more perfect?" </p><p>Ezra's smile dropped. He didn't correct Crowley, though, didn't want to ruin the mood. For the first time in almost a week, they had been comfortable with one another. To ruin it now would just be cruel. Besides, there would be no duels with Scottish ghosts, no traversing through Chinese temples, no wandering through the Burma jungle. It would just be him, in his estate, waiting for Gabriel to get home like he always did, planning parties, and trying not to make a fool of himself. </p><p>Crowley stood up and squeezed his shoulder. "Thanks for showing me the map. It's beautiful. I'm going to go into the tent. Don't stay up too late. Tomorrow, we're exploring the temple." He flashed one last grin at Ezra before disappearing behind the tent flaps. </p><p>Ezra sighed and folded the map back up. Why did his heart always have to be at war with his head? Why couldn't he be happy with all that he had? Why did he have to want more? It didn't make any sense and it killed him each time. </p><p>He stared out at the Sahara, his mind swirling with everything that had happened. For the first time in a long time, Ezra felt a strong urge to just throw off all expectations and do what he wanted. </p><p>Crowley had said 'we'. Crowley had talked about fighting ghosts in Scotland with riddles and swords. Crowley hadn't said he ruined the map with pins. </p><p>Tomorrow, Ezra would find the amulet and get Crowley his life back. And then he would make a choice where to go next. He was tired of not living his life. This month away from Gabriel had provided him with so much clarity. He wasn't in love with the man. Hell, at this point he wondered if he even liked the man. Perhaps it was the wrong decision, but he couldn't keep living in fear. </p><p>He had made his choice. It was time to stick with it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>They're almost at the temple! What do you think is going to happen? Will they find the amulet and cure Crowley? Or is he going to be stuck a snake forever? What do YOU think?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. The Magnificence of Ancient Egypt</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy Election Day! I'm sure a lot of us are stressed and so, to keep us from constantly looking at news and social media, I'll be posting 3 chapters. One in the morning, afternoon, and evening. Remember to take some time away from social media and do something else relaxing. </p><p>If you're voting today: → If the polls close while you're still in line, stay in line. You have the right to vote.</p><p>→ If you make a mistake on your ballot, ask for a new one.</p><p>→ If the machines are down at your polling place, ask for a paper ballot.</p><p>→ If you run into any problems or have questions on Election Day, call the ACLU Election Protection Hotline:</p><p>English: 1-866-OUR-VOTE / 1-866-687-8683</p><p>Spanish: 1-888-VE-Y-VOTA / 1-888-839-8682</p><p>Arabic: 1-844-YALLA-US / 1-844-925-5287</p><p>For Bengali, Cantonese, Hindi, Urdu, Korean, Mandarin, Tagalog, or Vietnamese: 1-888-274-8683</p><p>Remember, we likely won't know what happened today, or even this week, as all the early voting ballots have to be counted. Stay safe, stay sane, and remember to do something else today that doesn't require you constantly refreshing your feed to see updates.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Somehow, it is much bigger than I thought it would be," Ezra said, staring up at the temple, his mouth hanging opened as he struggled to fully comprehend what he was looking at. </p><p>"Yeah, the Egyptians did not go easy on the construction. Of course, it helps when you build it all with slave labor," Crowley said, hobbling the camels. It was awfully kind of him not to expect Ezra to help out. </p><p>Of course, Ezra wouldn't have been much help anyway. He hadn't moved from his spot since Crowley stopped them almost fifteen minutes ago. The temple was grander than he had ever imagined. </p><p>"It's magnificent," he breathed. Huge, towering spires carved with hieroglyphics rose above the Sahara, reaching towards Heaven itself in a monument to math, ingenuity, and the strength of an Empire. His mind struggled to catch up with his eyes. There was so much beauty, so much majesty in this temple. The care taken into the carvings that still stayed through all these millennia, capturing a moment in history, a moment in time. It was so well-preserved, it didn't take much for Aziraphale to picture himself back in Ancient Egypt, standing here with pharaohs and priestesses and people going about their day to day lives. If he wasn’t so dead-set on finding the amulet for Crowley, he would be happy with just this. </p><p>"It's definitely one of their smaller ones," Crowley said, coming to stand beside him. </p><p>"You mean, there are bigger ones than this?" </p><p>"Yup," Crowley said. "You should see the ones dedicated to Amun-Ra. They're massive." </p><p>"I guess that's next time," Ezra said. </p><p>"Right, so, when we get in there, angel, you follow me. Don't rush ahead, don't touch anything. Egyptian curses are nothing to mess around with." </p><p>Ezra pulled his eyes away from the temple. "Oh, but what if you get cursed again, dear? I would hate for anything to happen to you." </p><p>Crowley shrugged. "I'm already cursed. There's not much more they can do to me." </p><p><em>They could kill you.</em> Ezra thought, his heart squeezing with the thought that Crowley might die out in this desert. No, he wouldn't allow that to happen. Yes, Crowley was trying to protect him, but Ezra would do everything in his power to keep him safe. He had lost his mother. He had lost his dreams. He would not lose Crowley. </p><p>"Still, I don't like this idea of falling on your sword to protect me. Besides, I need a guide to get me back to civilization. I'm afraid I still can't read the desert quite like you can, my dear, and I don’t trust Freddie to lead me to Suef." </p><p>The tips of Crowley's ears and his cheeks turned red and he turned away. "I know, I know. I won't get cursed on purpose. I'm just saying that I have a lot more experience with temples than you have. I'm the better one when it comes to figuring out what's dangerous and what's not. If I say not to do something, you don't do it, okay?" </p><p>Ezra nodded. He supposed that made sense. Crowley was more knowledgeable than him at this point and he would hate to accidentally make things worse because he didn't listen. </p><p>Crowley took a deep breath. "Right, I suppose we should get started then. Where do you suggest we first look?" </p><p>Ezra pulled out his notebook and flipped through his notes. "Let's see here, I suppose let's start at the main body of the temple and just see what we can find. I have a feeling there's a hidden chamber somewhere around there, but I won't know until I get a look at the layout." </p><p>Crowley nodded. "Right then. You lot," he turned to the camels, "stay put. I'm not chasing after you for three weeks because you got bored." </p><p>"Have you had to do that?" Ezra asked, following Crowley inside.</p><p>"Yeah, when I first got them, they escaped from their pin and it took me nearly a month to track them down and bring them back." </p><p>"Good lord. I don't know why you didn't just leave them," Ezra muttered. Perhaps this was another indication that he was soft. </p><p>Crowley shrugged. "They were all I had at the moment. I didn't want to lose anything else. Besides, camels are stubborn, angel. You have to show them who's boss. The first year or so after you get them is just a big standoff until one of you breaks. Only weak trainers break before their camels do." </p><p>Ezra laughed. "You and your camel knowledge. You should write a how-to manual." </p><p>"Now that is a niche." He grinned. </p><p>Inside the temple was cool, cooler than Ezra had felt in weeks (except at night, of course). It felt amazing not to have the sun beating down on him for once during this trip. He left out a sigh and nearly sank to the ground in pleasure. "This feels amazing," he said, pausing to let the dusty temple air fill his lungs. </p><p>"Yeah? I imaging after being out in the sun non-stop for the past few weeks, it would feel like heaven." </p><p>"Still not as good as the oasis." </p><p>"And you didn't want to stop," Crowley teased. </p><p>It felt so natural, doing this with Crowley. Ezra had no idea why he had ever wanted Gabriel to come with him in the first place. Gabriel would not have been pleased with all the stops. He would not have liked the sandstorms and burning heat. He would not have liked sleeping on the ground and wearing the same clothes for days at a time, slowly soaking up sweat until they were stiff and dirty. No, Ezra was always much better doing this alone, where he could be free to be himself. </p><p>The temple itself was relatively simple in design. There were a few wings and backrooms that he spotted, probably to keep ritualistic type materials that had long been plundered and taken from this beautiful place. </p><p>The main temple room, the room of worship and sacrifice, however, was just as grand as he pictured it. There were little hills of sand scattered throughout the room, seeping in through cracks that had appeared through years of wear-and-tear. Sunlight filtered in through holes in the ceiling, speckling the floors and walls with little drops of gold. The interior was decorated with more hieroglyphics, detailing the story and use of this place. </p><p>"I wonder if we can figure out who commissioned it," Crowley said, studying a nearby wall. "They usually mention the pharaoh somewhere in here." </p><p>"Part of their belief system," Ezra added. "So they could be remembered after they died." </p><p>Crowley nodded. His fingertips were dragging across the rough stone. Some of the hieroglyphs were faded and chipped. One could guess what their original meaning was, but now they were just ghosts of the past; an incomplete echo of a time long gone. A time replaced with automobiles and new empires and new gods. </p><p>It was almost sad, in a way, to see the remnants of a once-great civilization covered in sand and chipped and worn in a way that would have been sacrilegious during its prime. But, in another way, there was something hopeful about it as well. Time marched forward and things like slave labor were no longer a part of civilized society. There were things like electric lamps to light the dark making nighttime reading much easier. There were steamboats and telegrams to keep in touch with the world. There was society, moving forward and improving in ways that would have been impossible during this time. </p><p>Ezra walked towards the far end of the room, his footsteps echoing around the cool, dark chamber. It was rather like being in a church. When he went to Notre Dame with his mother, all those years ago, he remembered feeling a strange sense of calm and safety in those hallowed halls. It was the same feeling here. He felt safe. </p><p>"Any sense of danger?" he asked, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb the remnants of worship that remained in the air. </p><p>"No," Crowley said. "Funny, you'd think Isis would take every opportunity to kick me out." </p><p>"Maybe she believes you've served your punishment." </p><p>"I'm not getting my hopes up." </p><p>Ezra bit his lip. <em>Then I will get my hopes up for you, Crowley. One of us has to be an optimist.</em> </p><p>What was once a simple dream to write a good story had turned into a personal quest to help someone who had helped him so much. He didn't know if Isis would listen to him. He wasn't sure what the Egyptian gods’ opinions on Anglicans were, but he did send up a prayer to her. He let her know that Crowley was a changed man; a man who was nice, and kind and had just told Ezra to let him take any curses to protect him. He had served his time, it was only fair he be released from this prison so he could continue to live his life. </p><p>"Any ideas, Angel?" Crowley asked. </p><p>Ezra stopped in the middle of the room and looked around. "Alright, I'm an ancient Egyptian. The Romans have invaded and are currently sacking the temples and taking all the jewels and precious goods they can find to fund their never-ending lust for conquest. I want to hide a treasure from them, where would I put it so it can be found and used later?" </p><p>"Hmm," Crowley came up beside him, his lips pursed and his brow furrowed. He was still wearing those ridiculous glasses. Ezra so wished he would take them off so he could see his beautiful eyes. </p><p>"Well, I would probably put a sign or something that only another high priest or priestess would realize was there. Can't make it too obvious." </p><p>"Perhaps a changed hieroglyph?" Ezra said, walking towards a particularly in-tact pillar. He circled it, looking for anything that might give him a clue. </p><p>He must have gone around it three times before he spotted it. "Crowley, come look at this." </p><p>Crowley came over and bent down to look at the hieroglyph at hip height. "That doesn't look right." </p><p>Ezra was by no means an expert on ancient Egyptian Hieroglyphs, but he thought he could recognize Isis’s name anywhere. He had spent years of his life researching, after all. The hieroglyph in question depicted a throne, two ovals, and a woman sitting. </p><p>"I'm not great at reading hieroglyphs, but doesn't the throne only have three levels?" Indeed, the throne they were looking at had four levels.</p><p>"Odd, maybe a mistake?" Crowley said, standing back up. </p><p>"Or a sign. They put too much work and respect to make a simple mistake like this" Ezra reached forward to touch the hieroglyph, only to have Crowley snatch his hand away. </p><p>"Angel, remember what I told you," he said. </p><p>Ezra nodded, still hating the fact that Crowley was trying to protect him. He understood, of course, but that didn't mean he liked watching as Crowley took a deep breath, almost as if he was trying to calm himself, reached forward, and touched the hieroglyph. </p><p>At first, nothing happened. </p><p>"Hmm," Ezra said, looking around. "I would have thought a trap door or something would have opened." </p><p>"Maybe it was a mistake, first day on the job and you bugger the name of Isis?" Crowley suggested. </p><p>“Could you imagine? I’d be mortified.” </p><p>Crowley chuckled. “I’d probably move to Persia and change my name.” </p><p>“Oh no, you’d have to go much further than that. Perhaps over up to Norway to become a reindeer herder?” </p><p>They were both howling with laughter at this point. </p><p>“The perfect plan!” Crowley exclaimed, doubled over and shaking. </p><p>Ezra was wiping tears from his eyes as he pictured the scene of an ancient Egyptian running up to Norway to escape his ill-fated typo. </p><p>Then, the ground began to shake. The sand piles shifted and the rocks groaned. Crowley reacted faster than him, grabbing his hand and yanking him away from the giant column before Ezra could comprehend what was happening. </p><p>"Crowley!" he yelled, trying to pull back and to the main room. "I have to see..." </p><p>"The temple's ancient. It'll come down around us if we're not careful," he shouted over the noise. </p><p>Indeed, a large boulder fell right where Ezra was standing not two seconds prior. He decided to stop arguing with Crowley and run as fast as he could out of the temple. </p><p>Outside was hot and dry, Ezra's body immediately revolted, wanting to be back in the cool temple. The ground around them was shifting and shaking. Was it possible that they had accidentally caused an earthquake? Ezra wouldn't be able to live with himself if he accidentally caused Egypt to split in half. </p><p>The camels seemed unbothered, merely staring at the temple as it continued to shake and twist in a way no building should shake and twist. </p><p>It lasted for almost fifteen minutes. They didn't dare move from their spot. Ezra waited in bated breath, praying he hadn't accidentally caused the entire, beautiful temple to collapse. </p><p>Finally, the shaking stopped. The temple was still standing, though a few pillars had been toppled over. </p><p>"I'm guessing they weren't built to be inactive for a couple of thousand years," Crowley said. </p><p>"I guess not. Shall we?" Ezra said, looking at him. He was desperate to find this amulet and present it to Crowley. After all, he had done, it didn't feel fair to just give him two hundred pounds and leave. He needed something bigger to show his appreciation. </p><p>"Yeah. Remember, stay behind me and don't do anything without asking me first," Crowley said. He took Ezra's hand. He was so gentle with him, and they fit perfectly together, almost as if they were made for one another even though he still had thick bandages holding the damaged appendage together. </p><p>What would it be like to hold Crowley's hand out in public, in London as they went to the shops and looked around the market? He wondered if Crowley liked sweets such as crepes and angel's food cake. He wondered if Crowley preferred tea or coffee. There was so much he didn't know. So much he wanted to know. After this was all over, he was going to ask Crowley all these questions and more. He was going to learn everything about him. He was desperate for it. </p><p>Inside the temple, Crowley lit a torch. "Well, it's still standing. Say what you will about Ancient Egypt, but they were good at building things that lasted." </p><p>"I wonder if we'll ever build anything that lasts a long time." </p><p>Crowley made a face. "Could you imagine that ugly clock tower in Westminster standing forever?" </p><p>"It's not ugly, it's beautiful," Ezra said with a huff. "The history of it is quite fascinating."</p><p>"Nope, not going to listen to a history lesson. I'll investigate Scottish castles with you, angel, but I am not listening to you prattle on about a stupid clock." </p><p>He rolled his eyes. "I imagine you were quite horrible to have in school." </p><p>"Nah, I was okay. Excelled at art and science, though. Absolute rubbish at Maths." He said.</p><p>Ezra felt a spark of shame. Of course, that was what Crowley told him during the story. He would have to pick up some art supplies before he left Cairo and give it to him as another thank you. Let's see, the amulet, the money, and art supplies were that considered too much? He didn't want Crowley to think he didn't enjoy his time here. </p><p>"Wow," Crowley came to a stop before a previously unseen staircase. "Looks like you were right, there was a secret room." </p><p>"Told you so. I know how to do my research." </p><p>"I'm guessing you were quite horrible to have in school," Crowley said, continuing forward to the staircase. </p><p>"Me?" </p><p>"Yes, you. You were probably one of those students that always did more work than what was asked."</p><p>"And what's wrong with that?" </p><p>"Poor teacher needs to sleep sometime, angel." Crowley laughed. </p><p>They paused at the top of the staircase and peered down. </p><p>"Any... funny feelings?" Ezra asked. </p><p>Crowley was quiet for a minute. He sniffed the air. "Something's changed." </p><p>"Yes, there is a staircase leading down to God knows where," Ezra said, pointing at the structure. </p><p>Crowley shook his head. "No, it's not that. Something's different. I can't put my finger on what." </p><p>It probably would have been smart not to descend the staircase down into the abyss to search for an amulet that may or may not exist. Ezra was done being smart. </p><p>He shook his hand out of Crowley's grasp and went towards the staircase. </p><p>"Oi, wait for me," Crowley said, rushing in front of him. </p><p>"As long as you aren't worried there's a curse, I feel like we should do some exploration. Besides, we don't want to wait too long, or else you might transform down there. I don't think I can carry you all the way back up," Ezra stated. </p><p>"I got it, I got it. Impatient thing you are." </p><p>The staircase didn't descend too deeply, only a few meters or so. The air shifted and changed with each step-down. What above was a sandy sort of scent in the air was now changing to one of mildew and mold. It probably wasn't great for his lungs. </p><p>At the final stair, they stopped and looked down a long hallway. </p><p>"Just because this is here, doesn't mean the amulet is here," Crowley said. </p><p>He wondered if he was trying to convince himself or Ezra. </p><p>"Still, it wouldn't hurt to look around," Ezra said, walking forward. He had to find the amulet. He had to cure Crowley. No one deserved this sort of punishment, except for maybe Luc but who knows if Isis ever did anything to him. </p><p>It was so quiet down here. One would think the desert, being filled with nothing but sand, would be quiet, but there was still loudness that came with the environment. The wind hitting the dunes. The sand tumbling and cartwheeling over other pieces. Here, there was no wind, no sand, just the sound of his footsteps echoing off the walls. </p><p>"Any ideas where to start?" Crowley said, peering into a room. "Any ideas about what this thing even looks like?" </p><p>Ezra blushed. "Erm..." </p><p>"You don't know what it looks like?" </p><p>"It's not like there are photographs of this thing floating about! It's a rumor." </p><p>"So how are you going to know when you find it?" Crowley said.</p><p>"I was assuming it'd be a sort of... feeling?" </p><p>"You assumed it'd be a feeling?" Crowley deadpanned. "Well, alright then, let's see how your feelings work as a treasure finder." </p><p>"You fiend quit teasing me." He huffed. </p><p>They continued further and further down into the tunnel when suddenly, Ezra felt the air shift. He stopped. </p><p>"What's wrong?" Crowley said, "do you hear any voices telling you to leave? Listen to those voices, Ezra, please." </p><p>He shook his head. "No, it's not that. It's just..." He turned to look down another long, dark hallway. "I think we should go this way." </p><p>Crowley shrugged. "Whatever you say. But the moment you start to feel like you shouldn't be here, you tell me and you get out, alright?" </p><p>"So long as you get out with me." He said. </p><p>Crowley smirked. "I'm not going to die, angel. And I'm not going to let anything happen to you." </p><p><em>It's you I worry about.</em> Ezra thought. Crowley's self-loathing made him a prime candidate for self-sacrifice. If there was another accident, Ezra wasn't sure he could help, not out here with limited resources and miles from the nearest city. </p><p>The end of the hallway opened up into a large room, absolutely piled to the top with jewels. "Oh my," Ezra breathed. "Tributes to Isis?" </p><p>Crowley shrugged. "Possibly. See anything that catches your eye?" He let go of Ezra's hand. </p><p>He took this opportunity to wander around the room, careful not to touch anything, only to look. There were certainly a lot of gold and jewels scattered about. It almost looked like a pirate's treasure in a picture book. He could imagine any one of these items would be worth a fortune, not least because of the history they were connected to. </p><p>"You know where we're at?" Ezra asked. </p><p>"Yeah, why?" </p><p>"Well because someone should let the University or Egyptian museum know this is here. Imagine, Crowley, a whole exhibit dedicated purely to Isis and their history." </p><p>"Yeah, as long as you don't tell those wankers at the British Museum, we should be good." </p><p>Something caught his eye. On the ground, near the far end of the room, was a simple leather braided necklace lying on the ground. He bent over to pick it up. It was well-worn, the hieroglyphs on the leather had worn down, though he could still make out what they were. </p><p>"Bloody hell, Angel, I thought I told you not to touch anything." Crowley snarled, coming up beside him. </p><p>"I wasn't told not to, so I figured this was okay." </p><p>"Think that's the amulet?" </p><p>He shrugged. "It certainly doesn't look like an amulet, but I suppose if you are an all-powerful mother goddess, you'd be able to make anything an amulet."</p><p>Crowley took it in his fingers and examined it. "Why do you think this is the amulet. Why not that thing over there?" He pointed to a rather large and gaudy looking necklace laying not one meter away from where Ezra had found the amulet. </p><p>"I don't know." He shrugged. "Something is telling me that this is what we're looking for." </p><p>Crowley snorted. "Maybe don't put this in your book. Make it big and powerful and... er, more like an amulet. Like in the talkies. I'm sure someone had one with an amulet." </p><p>Ezra chuckled. "What's wrong with this? It's a beautiful piece of craftsmanship, besides, we don't even know if it works or not. This whole thing could be nothing more than a story."</p><p>Crowley handed him back the leather necklace, wordless. To the outside observer, he still would have appeared fine, confident, with every bit of swagger he usually carried with him. Ezra felt he knew better at this point. He could see the minute droop in shoulders and the way his brow furrowed together. He was desperate for this amulet business to be real. He needed it to be real. </p><p>"Well, there's only one way to find out," Ezra said, trying to sound cheerful. "Shall we wish for your curse to go away?" </p><p>It all happened so fast. He could see movement out of the corner of his eye, movement that was not supposed to be in the bowels of an abandoned and ancient temple. </p><p>His body reacted on instinct. His legs pushed him forward, closer to Crowley. The palm of his hand struck him right in the chest, sending the man tumbling to the ground. </p><p>Pain ripped through his torso, like nothing he had ever felt. It was white-hot, burning, exploding inside his body. </p><p>He thought he could hear Crowley scream. Funny, that seemed to happen quite a lot. </p><p>He fell to the ground, the leather necklace still clutched in his hands.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Oh no! What happened to Ezra? Will Crowley save him? How will this all end? Find out next time!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. If You Had One Wish, What Would You Wish For?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy Election Day! I'm sure a lot of us are stressed and so, to keep us from constantly looking at news and social media, I'll be posting 3 chapters. One in the morning, afternoon, and evening. Remember to take some time away from social media and do something else relaxing. </p><p>If you're voting today: → If the polls close while you're still in line, stay in line. You have the right to vote.</p><p>→ If you make a mistake on your ballot, ask for a new one.</p><p>→ If the machines are down at your polling place, ask for a paper ballot.</p><p>→ If you run into any problems or have questions on Election Day, call the ACLU Election Protection Hotline:</p><p>English: 1-866-OUR-VOTE / 1-866-687-8683</p><p>Spanish: 1-888-VE-Y-VOTA / 1-888-839-8682</p><p>Arabic: 1-844-YALLA-US / 1-844-925-5287</p><p>For Bengali, Cantonese, Hindi, Urdu, Korean, Mandarin, Tagalog, or Vietnamese: 1-888-274-8683</p><p>Remember, we likely won't know what happened today, or even this week, as all the early voting ballots have to be counted. Stay safe, stay sane, and remember to do something else today that doesn't require you constantly refreshing your feed to see updates.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Crowley did not waste time wondering how Ezra had seen them before he had smelled them. His senses were always dulled in the daytime, but they were never that dull! It didn’t matter, in the end, because Hatur and Ligur had shot Ezra! How long had they been following them? How long had Crowley not noticed? </p><p>He managed to drag Ezra’s limp, bleeding body behind a rather large pile of jewels, praying it would be enough to protect Ezra while he dealt with the two men he should have killed years ago. </p><p>"Come out, Crawley," Ligur's voice made him sick. He sounded so jovial. "We have you cornered and we've shot your boyfriend." </p><p>Crowley snarled. He wasn't in snake form. Even if he was, he wasn't sure how he could defeat both Hastur and Ligur, they both were at the entrance, blocking him from any escape. And even if they weren't, there was no way he'd be able to get Ezra out of here, onto a camel, and to Suef before they caught up. </p><p>The torch he had been holding onto was at the other end of the room, the flames sputtering out. </p><p>There were footsteps, crunching on the gold and jewels that had fallen to the ground. He dug in his bag and pulled it out. His gun. He had only shot it a few times and wasn't that great. But it was his only chance of survival. </p><p>"Come on," He hissed, glaring at the torch to go out sooner. </p><p>Another set of crunching footsteps. Did Hastur and Ligur know where he was? He looked down at Ezra. He was still breathing, thank God, but his face was pinched in pain. The cream and white colors of his clothes were quickly stained red and blood was pooling on the floor around him. He ran a hand through his hair. </p><p>"Please, Ezra, please hold on. I'll get you out of here, angel, I promise." </p><p>That seemed to be the magic words as the torch finally, finally went out. </p><p>"Bloody hell," Hastur cursed. "Light a torch, quickly." </p><p>Now, the thing about snakes is that while their eyesight isn't that great, their other senses were good, being hunters and all. Crowley could tell where everyone was at in this room. </p><p>He only prayed it would be enough for a clean shot. </p><p>He stood, gun at the ready, aimed, and fired. No time for second guesses, no time for fears. Two shots, straight at the people who had followed them all these miles, who had hurt Ezra several times. The sound of the gun going off was loud, and his ears were ringing with the noise so much that he became momentarily disoriented. </p><p>He heard two bodies fall to the ground and shook his head, attempting to regain his bearings. Ezra was hurt. Ezra was bleeding out. He needed to get them out of here now. </p><p>"Come on, Ezra, let's get you out of here," He said, looping one of Ezra's arms around his shoulders and dragging him to the entrance. </p><p>"Crowley?" Ezra said, his voice low and weak. He let out a cough. "What happened?" </p><p>"Hastur and Ligur followed us. They shot you. Come on, angel, help me get you out of here." </p><p>"Still have the amulet," He muttered, head lolling forward and body lurching. Crowley struggled to keep him standing. </p><p>"Crowley!" Hastur's dreadful voice rang out through the halls.</p><p>"Shit!" Crowley said, now dragging Ezra through the halls as quickly as he could. </p><p>Ezra was trying, he could tell, but his feet tripped over each other more often than not. </p><p>"I'm going to kill you, you slimy bastard!" </p><p>He took a look back to see Hastur stumble out of the room. Well, Crowley had managed to shoot him. The only problem was that it looked like the bullet had only grazed his side. It would hurt, but it would keep him down. </p><p>The temple was starting to shake again. </p><p>"Fuck, no!" Crowley was using every bit of strength he had to drag Ezra as fast as he could out of the building. What if the stairs closed back up again? What if they were trapped down here forever? </p><p>Hastur had broken out into a full-on sprint and was quickly gaining ground. </p><p>He could see the stairs in front of him. </p><p>The entire earth was shaking as the ancient mechanisms that had been built centuries ago were now starting to move once more. He had to make it. He had to get Ezra out of here. He promised he would get him out of here. He promised he would keep him alive. </p><p>They were at the foot of the stairs now. </p><p>A great force smashed into his back, causing him to lose his grip on Ezra and tumble to the ground. </p><p>Hastur dragged him back by his collar and pinned him to the ground. "I'm going to kill you." </p><p>A fist smashed into the side of Crowley's face, breaking his teeth, nose, and possibly parts of his skull. Another fist on the other side, whipping his head to the right. One after the other Hastur punched him. Blood was now pouring out of his nose and mouth. His ears were ringing and his sight had gone fuzzy. </p><p>One more punch smashed his glasses, the glass stabbing into his skin. </p><p>He could hear Ezra, panting, and groaning. </p><p>Ezra. He had to protect Ezra. That was all that mattered now was getting him out of this place. </p><p>He had been in this position before. His first fight for Bee. A man much bigger and stronger than him had him pinned to his back. That day, Crowley truly thought he would die. But he didn't. He had won that fight and he had won others that were just as hard. </p><p>In between his punches, Crowley let out a roar and forced himself up, making Hastur tumble back into the temple. </p><p>"You should have left us alone," he snarled, leaping on the man and raining down a number of kicks and punches. He probably would have beat Hastur to death here and now. But out of the corner of his eye, he could see the stairs start to fold in on one another. </p><p>"No!" He shot forward, grabbed Ezra, and leaped up the stairs, barely managing to make it before they were too high to escape. </p><p>His head was pounding. His sides were aching. His entire body wanted him to stop and rest. He ignored all of it and forced one last bit of effort to get him and Ezra up the stairs as fast as possible. </p><p>The temple was going to collapse. He knew it. He rushed forward, legs and lungs burning as Ezra's weight started to be too much for him to handle. Stones were landing all around them, some barely missing his back and sides. </p><p>"Almost there, we're almost there." He didn't know who he was trying to comfort. Ezra was now completely limp, only staying up because Crowley refused to let him fall once more. </p><p>He was outside, falling down the stairs and rolling into the hot sand that he had missed so dearly. </p><p>The camels, bless them, had come up to stand in front of him and Ezra, almost as if to form a protective barrier between them and the collapsing temple. </p><p>The ground stopped shaking. He lay there, panting. </p><p>Ezra was completely still. </p><p>He rolled to his knees, still trying to ignore the pain he was feeling all throughout their body. He could see now the blood, pooling around Ezra's breast. </p><p>"Come on, wake up." He said, tapping the side of his face. "Wake up, angel. I need you to tell me how to heal you." He grabbed his shoulders and shook him once more. </p><p>"Come on, you stubborn bastard. Wake up!" </p><p>Ezra's head lolled to the side, his eyes were closed and the pain Crowley had seen earlier was now gone. </p><p>"No, no, no," He said, standing up and rushing to Freddie, pulling down the medical kit Ezra had brought along. Inside were a bunch of bandages, ointments, and other things Crowley didn't know the use of. </p><p>"Angel, wake up. Tell me how to fix you!" He collapsed in the sand next to him and desperately ripped off his shirt. </p><p>"Come on!" He was crying now, his tears mixing with the blood that was still pouring from his wounds. </p><p>"You got to keep the heart pumping," he said. "You got to keep their heart pumping." He started pushing on Ezra's chest, wondering if he was doing it right.</p><p>He could feel Ezra's bones bend under the pressure of his hands. He didn't want to go too hard and hurt him, so he eased off. </p><p>"Come on, come on," he muttered to himself, focused solely on pushing down over and over and over again. </p><p>Ezra wasn't breathing. He wasn't moving. His lips were blue and even in the desert sun, his body was going cold. </p><p>"No, no, God, please no!" Crowley said, his arms and back seizing up from the awkward position he was in. </p><p>He threw himself back, onto his feet, pacing and running his hands through his hair. "Come on, Crowley. Think! There has to be something! I have to be able to do something!" </p><p>His mind was going a mile a minute, but none of the thoughts were helpful. Just a steady string of prayers to a God he no longer believed in and fears of losing the one person he had ever loved, and who, he'd like to think, loved him back. </p><p>His eyes fell to Ezra's body. In his hand was still clutched the leather necklace they had found in the temple. He fell to his knees beside him once more and pried the necklace out of his stiff palm, careful not to scratch his hands with his own rough and jagged nails. </p><p>"Isis, please!" He said, staring at the amulet, trying to decipher how to use it. He pressed it into Ezra's chest, just above the bullet wound. "Heal him. Heal him please, that's my wish. Please." </p><p>He was still crying, still sobbing. He could feel all of his hope slipping through his hands. There was nothing left. This was the only option. </p><p>"Heal him! I'm begging you! Please, that's what I want! This amulet is supposed to help me." </p><p>Unless it wasn't really the amulet. Unless Ezra was wrong and picked up a useless trinket. </p><p>"No," Crowley gathered him up in his arms, squeezing him as if that would help the life stay in his body. "No, you're clever. Angel, you're so damn clever. You wouldn't have picked up just any old scrap. You picked up this one. You were right. You have to be right. This is the amulet, the thing we've been looking for." </p><p>He pressed their foreheads together and squeezed his eyes shut. "You're so clever, you can't be wrong about this. You can't. You can't have come all this way and done so many amazing things just to be wrong about a bloody necklace." </p><p>Isis did not answer him. The desert was silent and Crowley was all alone. </p><p>He pulled back and kissed Ezra, chasing the last of his warmth and life, letting himself imagine a reality in which this was all just a bad dream. He had found happiness in these last few weeks, the happiness he had never felt before. He knew it was too good to last and yet he still was so desperate to capture it in his hands and never let it go. </p><p>"You only get one," a voice that was neither male nor female, neither young nor old, neither loud nor soft rang out through his head. </p><p>He whipped his head up and saw nothing. "Who said that?" </p><p>"The one you have angered." The voice swirled around him, pinning him in place, making it difficult to breathe. </p><p>"Isis?" He gasped. Had it worked? Had his desperate prayers worked? </p><p>"I have heard your desires. Should you ask for this, you will be unable to wish yourself free of my curse." </p><p>He shook his head. "I don't care. Turn me into a snake full time if you want, please, just heal him." </p><p>"He will not choose you. He will return to the other man." </p><p>Crowley swallowed and looked down at Ezra. Gabriel was an abusive bastard, he knew that much about the man. He knew that Ezra deserved better and wanted better. He knew that Ezra was a fiery force to be reckoned with and Gabriel had smothered that flame almost to extinction. Would it be better for him to wake up and return to that half-life he was living before? Or would it be better for him to stay dead? Perhaps he was up in heaven, visiting his mum for the first time in years. Perhaps he liked it better. </p><p>He squeezed his eyes shut. "I don't care. He's allowed to make his own choices. He's allowed to figure out what he wants. I can't take that away from him." </p><p>"Even if he does not choose you?" </p><p>Crowley nodded. "Not much of a choice, to be honest. Especially if I'm going to stay a snake my whole life. Please, help him." </p><p>"Only he can decide if he wishes to remain here. Only he can make the choice to stay in the land of the living or the land of the dead. You risk wasting your only opportunity to break your curse on someone else's choice." </p><p>Crowley took a deep breath. "I know. But he should still get the option. If he does decide to stay in the land of the dead, then I'll be happy knowing that he's happy." </p><p>"Very well." </p><p>The wind shifted and the weight that had been holding him in place was gone now. Crowley blinked and looked down at Ezra, waiting to see if he would open his eyes.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ah the next chapter. Do you think Ezra is going to come back? Do you think he'll choose Crowley? It might seem like an easy choice, but sometimes there are other factors at play. I guess you'll just have to wait and see.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. I'm Glad to Have Seen You One Last Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Alright guys, the last chapter for today as the polls start to close across the country. Remember, we likely won't know anything concrete for at least a week so what we see tonight is not the complete story. </p><p>Please take a break from doom scrolling, get some sleep tonight, and remember that no matter what, we will continue to push forward.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ezra was someplace very warm and relaxing. It reminded him very much of sinking into a hot bath. When he opened his eyes, he saw that he was somewhere very bright, almost like the clouds in the sky. Just like when he and Newt flew with the birds all those weeks ago. Seeing it a second time was just as magical as the first time, though he didn’t feel sick, which was an improvement. </p><p>"Hello, love," a familiar voice said. </p><p>"Mother?" Ezra turned to see his mother sitting on the softest looking sofa imaginable. She looked just how he remembered her. Her hair was blond and curly like his. Her eyes a bright blue-green, like the ocean. Her face was worn from years spent in the wild, the desert, the jungle; meeting new people, and learning new things. </p><p>She smiled, the wrinkles around her eyes creasing in exactly the right way. </p><p>Ezra couldn't help himself. He threw himself into her arm, squeezing her tightly and crying. Goodness, she must be disappointed, a grown man crying in his mother's arms like a scared child. </p><p>"I've missed you so much," she said, her hand running through his hair. "I've been watching over you. I'm glad you went to Egypt. It's such a beautiful country." </p><p>He pulled back. There were tears in her eyes as well. </p><p>"I've missed you too. I've felt so... so lost these past few years without you. I've felt stuck. I never thought I’d see you again." </p><p>"Are you still stuck?" </p><p>He sat down beside her. The sofa was as soft as it looked. His feet and back were aching from all the exercise he had gotten recently. His hands were calloused and his feet were blistered. Sitting down on this sofa seemed to erase all the pain he felt as if his muscles could truly relax and release for the first time in forever. </p><p>"I don't really know." A thought occurred to him. "Am I dead?" That would explain the white light and cloud-like furniture. "I remember Hastur and Ligur followed us. I believe they shot at Crowley, but I pushed him out of the way and took the bullet myself." </p><p>"A very brave action, dear. You're not quite dead." </p><p>"Oh?" </p><p>"You're... more at a point between living and dying." </p><p>He nodded. "That makes sense." It didn't make sense, but he got the feeling that no matter how many questions he asked or how long his mother sat here and explained it to him, he would never fully understand. It wasn’t something people were meant to understand. </p><p>"You have an opportunity to go back to him." </p><p>"Crowley?" He looked at her. "I'm sorry, mother, but I don't think I'll be able to. The bullet hit too many major organs. Even if we weren't miles from the nearest town, it'd take a miracle to keep me alive." </p><p>"Weren't you looking for something that can produce a miracle?" She smiled, a hint of mischief sparkling in her eyes. </p><p>Ezra opened and closed his mouth. "You mean the amulet? Well, yes. I believe I've found it, but I'm not sure. And the last thing I remember is Crowley and Hastur having a row. I'm not sure if I can use it up here, seems how I don't have it on my person." He patted his coat and pockets, just to make sure. No amulet. No leather necklace. </p><p>"My dear, don't you have any faith in that handsome young man of yours?" </p><p>"So you like Crowley?" For some reason, this made him much happier than it ought to. His ‘handsome young man’, it had a nice ring to it. And Crowley was handsome, with a strong nose, good cheekbones, and a mischievous grin that never failed to send pleasant shivers down his spine. </p><p>"It doesn't matter what I like, love. You're the one who is going to have to live your life based on your choices." She sighed. "Sadly, this is one of them." </p><p>"What do you mean?" </p><p>"I told you you're in between dying and living. You have to choose which one you want." </p><p>"I have to choose whether or not I live or die?" Ezra sunk back into the chair, his mind struggling to comprehend everything that was going on around him. </p><p>"I'm sorry. I know it's not something many people like to think about." </p><p>He looked at her, the lines in her face, her bright eyes, and messy hair. "If I go back, I won't be able to see you again for a very long time." </p><p>She didn't say anything, just continued to stroke his hair and occasionally his back. </p><p>"What do you think I should do?" </p><p>She shook her head. "I'm sorry, love. I can't tell you." </p><p>He stood up, a flash of anger coursing through his body. "Well, why not? You're my mother, you're supposed to help guide me and whatnot, show me the right answer." </p><p>He felt absolutely horrid losing his temper like this. Almost five years had passed since he last saw her and this was how he was behaving? How he was treating her? Tears started streaming down his cheeks. He didn't want to lose her. He didn't want to make a choice that would separate him from her forever. What kind of child who had a loving parent growing up would make such a choice? What kind of selfish, cruel person would even think about leaving their parent? She had given up so much for him. Should he be thinking about her happiness and not his own? </p><p>"Because there is no right answer in this case.”</p><p>"If there's no right answer, then you would tell me what you think I should do. I should be able to hear arguments for what you think is best, to make a more informed decision. I know what it’s like out there, I don’t know what it’s like here." </p><p>She shook her head, took his hand, and tugged him back down to the soft cloud sofa. "No, because this is your life, Ezra. You should decide what makes you happy."</p><p>He sagged into the couch; anger replaced with weariness. It felt so nice to just sit and relax in an environment that wasn’t burning hot or freezing cold. It felt nice to just exist for a time without expectations.  </p><p>"I don't want to disappoint you," he whispered. And it was true. Whenever people told him about the amazing things she did, the kind of person she was, he often felt ashamed. He dropped out of med school and was now living the life of a politician's spouse without any hobbies or drive of his own. He stayed in the house all day, just sitting around and waiting for Gabriel to throw parties or take him to parties. All of the work his mother had put into raise him and he had amounted to nothing. No career. No life. No happiness. </p><p>"My darling, you won't disappoint me," she said, her voice so heartbreakingly tender. </p><p>Ezra was crying, again. Goodness, he was crying a lot today. He wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that he was dying... er, dead? Was he dead? He was a bit fuzzy on the details still. </p><p>"I don't want to leave you." He said. </p><p>"But you also don't want to leave your life behind either," she said. </p><p>"It's not fair. Why do I have to make a choice? Why does it all have to be on me?" He was angry. Angry at his mother for dying, angry at her body for getting sick, angry at doctors for not knowing enough to save her, angry at the world for taking everything away from him. Mostly, he was angry at himself. </p><p>"We all have to make choices that we don't like." </p><p>"What choice did you have to make?" he asked, desperate for some sort of guidance that would help him. </p><p>"Raising you," she said. It was a very simple statement, but it shook Ezra to his core. </p><p>"When I was pregnant with you, I had to make a choice: continue my life of adventure or settle down and raise you. I could take such a young child to some of the places I traveled, it was much too dangerous." </p><p>Guilt once more washed over him. It looked like he ruined lives wherever he went. </p><p>"You see, darling, I wanted both. I wanted to continue my life of adventure. But I also wanted to be a mother, and see my son grow up. Two opposing goals and desires." </p><p>"So you choose me?" Ezra had never heard about this before. "How did you make the choice?" </p><p>She shrugged. "I went through a long process of weighing the pros and cons. I'd like to tell you that I came to a clean answer with a clean solution, but in the end, I just knew in my heart I could never leave you. I knew that if I decided to continue as I had before I became a mother, I would regret it immensely. Besides, raising a child is no easy feat." </p><p>He nodded and looked at his hands. "You're saying that I already know what I want?" </p><p>"Your heart does at least." </p><p>She was right. He knew what he wanted the moment she offered it to him. He wanted his mother back in his life. He wanted to go to her for advice and for help, and even just for a friendly ear. He wanted someone who would support him, tell him when he was doing wrong, and be there when he eventually got married. </p><p>There was only one problem. </p><p>Staying here wouldn't give him any of that. It seemed nice here: quiet, soft, comfortable. It seemed like just the sort of place one would want when they died after living such a full life, but that was the sticking point. Ezra hadn't lived a full life. He hadn't done everything he wanted to do, see everything he wanted to see. He hadn't become who he thought he would be as a child. What he wanted, he ultimately couldn't have up here. </p><p>He wanted to see Crowley, smiling at him after a particularly funny story. He wanted to see Freddie, Bentley, and James frolicking in the sand after their packs had been removed for the day. He wanted to see the stars on every continent. </p><p>He wanted his mother, but he wanted his life more. </p><p>"And you're sure you won't be mad?" He had to make sure he had her blessing, he had to make sure he was doing the right thing. </p><p>"Of course I won't. I know there are lots of choices in life that will be difficult. You have to choose, though. You can't just rely on other people to make that choice for you."</p><p>"I know, I was just hoping..." </p><p>"I understand, love." </p><p>She hugged him tightly, her arms just as soft and warm as he remembered. She smelled just like he remembered. He should count himself lucky, not many people got the opportunity to talk with their dead loved ones. He at least had this. He had this closure, this final goodbye that had been stripped of him. He had this one last memory, of her healthy and smiling, her voice strong and caring. </p><p>He had this one last moment with her when she was still herself and not sick and in pain. It was more than anyone else ever got, and he was so grateful to have it. </p><p>"I love you," he said. He didn't want to let go, not just yet, but he knew his time was coming. He had made his choice and now it was time to stick with it. </p><p>"I love you too. Aren’t you forgetting something?” she asked, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.</p><p>Ezra frowned. “What do you mean?” He racked his brain, trying to figure out what she meant. It wasn’t as if he had a suitcase up here that he needed to keep track of or an address he had to remember. </p><p>“I am under the impression that your lovely guide is suffering from an unusual affliction.” </p><p>Realization dawned on him. “Ah, yes. Crowley is currently cursed to be a snake. When I get back, I will wish for Isis to remove the curse on him.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, the air shifted. It felt lighter, happier, freer. He frowned but made no mention of it. </p><p>“Goodbye, my darling son." She was smiling at him and it hit Ezra just how much she loved him. It was the sort of unconditional love everyone yearns for in life. He had a feeling that if he caught Crowley at just the right moment, he might see a similar look. And if Crowley caught him at just the right moment, Ezra would look at him the same way. </p><p>He smiled and kissed her on the cheek. "Goodbye, mum." </p><p>Slowly, he felt himself change and materialize, his body shifting as he moved between the land of the dead, back to the land of the living. It wasn't painful, it wasn't even uncomfortable. It was like waking up from a long, deep sleep. The kind where you wake up stiff in the morning and so well rested you feel like a new person. </p><p>He was back in the Sahara,  back where it had all happened. Back where he had died. </p><p>"Angel?" Crowley's voice was desperate in his ear. "Angel, are you alive? Are you awake? Please, open your eyes." </p><p>Ezra complied.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Maybe Breaking Your Curse Shouldn't Have Been on Your List of Priorities</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm back! I decided to take a break last week just to decompress from everything that had happened. We are almost done with this monstrosity! I hope y'all like this chapter. There are a few more fun surprises for you to experience. </p><p>Have a great weekend and stay safe!.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Crowley could have done a cartwheel when he felt Ezra's chest expand with breath. He did let out a very undignified whoop, as it were, but didn't move, so as not to jostle him too much. He wasn't sure how much healing Isis had done. Hopefully, it was enough to keep him alive until he could get checked out by a medical doctor. Until they were out of the desert, however, Crowley didn’t want to risk it. He needed Ezra to wake up and give him more instruction. He needed Ezra to wake up and show him that he was still alive. </p><p>He held his breath while Ezra started taking in air. He didn't seem like he was in pain, didn't even look that uncomfortable. He looked like he was sleeping, the only thing to give it away was the giant red stain on his shirt and the blood that was still soaking Crowley's arms. </p><p>"Angel?" Crowley said, desperate to see Ezra's eyes open and his voice. He wouldn't relax until he was completely certain that his angel was alright, that Isis hadn't played another cruel trick on him. </p><p>"Angel, are you alive? Are you awake? Please, open your eyes." He needed to see them. He needed to see that everything was okay. </p><p>A few more seconds went by before Ezra finally opened his eyes. </p><p>"Crowley?" He asked, his voice raspy. </p><p>Crowley laughed; relief flooding through his body in such a way it felt like he was melting into the sand. "Yeah, it's me. Gave me a real fright." </p><p>"What happened to your face?" </p><p>Oh, right, Hastur. "Um, got into a bit of a fistfight. Don’t worry, I kicked his arse. It's what I do for a living, after all." He didn’t care about his injuries or his wellbeing. He just cared about Ezra.</p><p>Ezra reached up and touched Crowley's nose. Surprisingly, he didn't feel any pain. Actually, his entire body felt better than it ought to after that whole round with Hastur and Ligur in the temple. Maybe Isis was feeling charitable and decided to heal him up too. </p><p>"You were right, angel," he said. "You were right about the amulet." </p><p>"Are you no longer a snake?" </p><p>Crowley winced, his one chance to get rid of this curse, the thing he had been searching for years, and he threw it away. He couldn't be too mad at himself, though. Seeing Ezra alive was good enough for him. </p><p>"No, I healed you. You were dead, angel. I couldn't--"</p><p>Ezra pushed out of his arms and into a sitting position. "It's okay, my dear. I know. Perhaps if you still have it, I can make a wish. I didn’t wish to be brought back, after all. Technically, it should still be good.” </p><p>Crowley huffed out another laugh, still keeping a hand on Ezra’s back just in case. “With thinking like that, you would have made a good lawyer.” </p><p>Ezra pulled a face and shook his head. “I am never going to be a lawyer. Now then, where did you put the amulet? We can at least try.” </p><p>He and Ezra looked around, trying to see if they could spot the amulet. It should have been right next to them. Ezra was clutching it in his hands and then Crowley was pressing it to Ezra’s body. No matter how much they looked or how deep they dug in the sand, they couldn’t find it. It was gone. </p><p>Crowley took a deep breath. He had cried enough for today, he didn't want to break down blubbering in front of Ezra. </p><p>"I saw my mum," Ezra said, tilting slightly, his voice sounding on the edge of tears. Crowley put his hand on his back to help steady and support him. "She thinks you're handsome." </p><p>"Does she now?" He grinned. </p><p>"I'm sorry, Crowley." </p><p>"What for?" If it wasn't for Ezra, Crowley would have been the one who was shot, and who knows if Isis would have agreed to heal him. Hell, he wasn't even sure why she helped him in the first place. </p><p>"Because that amulet was supposed to break the curse, and now..." </p><p>Crowley shrugged. "Don't worry about it. I'd rather have you alive and me a snake than you dead and me, not a snake. Someone has to give me the rest of the money," he said. </p><p>Ezra smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yes, I suppose that's correct." He looked over at the temple, now destroyed. "I feel so bad, the Egyptian people should have had access to their history." </p><p>"They'll still have access to it, angel. I'll let the government know about this little place and they can decide to excavate it or not."</p><p>"I suppose so." </p><p>"Besides, it's probably a good thing that amulet didn't end up in some government officials' hands. They're all corrupt, even the ones that aren't." </p><p>"If you say so, my dear," Ezra chuckled. He looked up at the sky with a small, sad smile.</p><p>Crowley couldn't take his eyes off of Ezra, in this light, he was radiant, every bit the angel Crowley thought and more. His profile held more life, more hope, more beauty than he had ever seen, even when he was well taken care of as a child. Forget the amulet, forget breaking the curse. This right here, sitting with Ezra in the quiet desert, this was all he needed. Besides, it wasn’t so bad turning into a snake at night. He could make it work if he had to. </p><p>He couldn't stop the soft smile that crossed his features. <em>He won't choose you.</em> That's what Isis had said, a final warning before he stayed stuck a snake forever. Crowley cared, of course, he cared. Somehow, in only a month, he had fallen in love so completely and totally with this man, this stranger who had come bumbling into his life, about to be robbed by his colleagues. This beautiful man had completely flipped it upside down and made him feel hope and love again, had made him feel all those feelings that he thought had been destroyed after everything he had been through. </p><p>Crowley wanted Ezra to stay by his side forever. He wanted to go on so many beautiful and wonderful adventures with his angel. But it was not to be. Ezra would not choose him. He would return to Gabriel, but that didn't mean he would stay. Crowley thought he could live with that. He thought he could live with Ezra dumping his fiancé's sorry ass and then galivanting around the world. He would read his books and cheer him on from the sidelines. It was not the life he wanted, but it was better than the life he had. </p><p>Ezra's eyes widened and he gasped, whipping back to Crowley. </p><p>"What is it? What's wrong?" Had Isis played another cruel trick on him? Had she healed Ezra only to take away her blessing?</p><p>"My dear!" Ezra looked back up at the sky and then back at Crowley. "The stars!" </p><p>Crowley tore his eyes away from Ezra to look up at the sky. Sure enough, a few stars were dotting the indigo sky. He stood up, trying to feel that weird stretch in his back that he always felt before he started to transform. It wasn't there. His face didn't itch either. His mouth didn't feel funny and his arms weren't going numb. </p><p>He tore off his glasses. "My eyes, angel, what about my eyes?" </p><p>Ezra studied him. "Well, they're definitely still yellow with the slits instead of rounded pupils. But they're smaller, you can see the whites." </p><p>Crowley began unbuttoning his shirt, looking down at his chest and ignoring Ezra's gasp. He had seen him naked before, several times. Surely he was not still shy around his body?</p><p>He couldn't see any scales. "My back, angel. Any scales on my back?" </p><p>He yanked off his shirt completely and twisted around Ezra was quiet for a few seconds. "There are some on your shoulders, right here." </p><p>Crowley shivered as he felt Ezra press a palm right on his shoulder blades. He craned his neck, trying to see them. </p><p>"But I don't feel like I’m going to transform." He said, pulling his shirt back up and buttoning it. "I feel fine like I do every day." </p><p>"Does this mean?" Ezra gripped his forearms and stared into his eyes, searching for an answer. </p><p>Crowley looked back up at the sky. The sun was completely below the horizon. Everything was going dark and there were more stars than he had ever seen since his transformation. He should be a snake right now. He shouldn't still be human. </p><p>He laughed. "She broke the curse!" Relief flooded his body and he felt this massive weight lift from his chest. Who knew the human body can hold onto so much stress? With each revelation, Crowley realized just how much he had suffered in the past, just how much he had been holding onto. "I'm not a snake!" </p><p>Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around Ezra's waist and spun him in a circle, causing the other man's legs to lift from the ground. </p><p>"Crowley!" Ezra shouted though he was giggling and gripping onto his shoulders so he must not have minded. </p><p>Crowley was still laughing, anyone who hadn't known the context probably thought he was mad. </p><p>He slipped on the sand and he and Ezra tumbled to the ground, still laughing and whooping for joy. </p><p>Ezra landed on top of him with an oomph and Crowley shifted his grip to his hips to keep him from tumbling onto the sand. </p><p>They stared into each other's eyes, still smiling. Crowley was smiling so much, his mouth and cheeks were starting to hurt. He couldn't ever remember being this happy. Ezra also had a huge smile on his face, his eyes sparkling with joy. Everything was absolutely perfect. </p><p>Slowly, they stopped laughing, instead of staring deep into each other's eyes, smiles slipping from their face as their breath intermingled. </p><p>This might have been Crowley's only chance, his last chance to convince Ezra to stay with him. He didn't have to stay in Egypt anymore. They could travel the world together. They could go to Scotland and China and everywhere else without worrying about him transforming into a snake. He could be exactly what Ezra needed, and Ezra could be exactly what he needed. </p><p>Ezra shifted so he was more comfortably situated on Crowley, his hands still on his shoulders. </p><p>Crowley decided to risk it. It was now or never. He brought one of his hands up to Ezra's cheek and rested it there for just a second, hoping his intentions were clear and Ezra could back out if he wanted. </p><p>Ezra smiled and lowered his head down. Crowley swallowed, prayed his breath didn't stink too bad and tilted his head for the kiss. </p><p>"Ezra!" </p><p>Like a bullet, Ezra scrambled off of Crowley and swore. </p><p>"Ezra, are you out here?" </p><p>"Gabriel?" Ezra said, standing up to look out over the dunes. </p><p>Crowley internally cursed a string of curses that would have made any respectable person faint with horror. Ezra's fiancé, the gaslighting abuser, was out here, in the desert. </p><p><em>He will return with him.</em> Isis had warned him. Crowley was too caught up in everything to fully accept what that meant. For an instant, one brief instant, he pretended that the word of a goddess was not truthful.</p><p>"Ezra!" Gabriel and a horde of about sixteen camels, complete with a ton of people (servants) crested over the hill like he was some sort of hero in a goddamn romance novel. </p><p>Crowley suppressed a growl. He was handsome. He had a perfect jawline, perfect hair (despite being out in the desert), and even his clothes looked perfect, the bloody wanker. </p><p>"What are you doing out here?" Ezra sputtered, his eyes wide as he took in Gabriel's massive caravan. Seriously, what did this guy think being out in the desert entailed? </p><p>"I came here to find you. I was so worried, sunshine." </p><p>Good, pet names. If Crowley was sure he wouldn't be executed on the spot, he'd punch Gabriel in his perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth. </p><p>"I have everything under control." Ezra protested. </p><p>That was a lie, of course. Ezra had just been shot and killed under Crowley's watch and almost buried in a collapsing temple. </p><p>Gabriel dismounted the camel and strode up to Ezra with confidence before sweeping him into a kiss, just like Crowley wanted to do. He looked away, jealousy and anger seething under his skin. </p><p>"Who is this?" Gabriel sneered at Crowley like he was dog shit stuck to the bottom of his shoe. </p><p>"This is Crowley, my guide," Ezra explained. </p><p>Right, guide. That's what Crowley was. He was hired to help with Ezra's adventure. </p><p>"Sunshine, you didn't have to go with someone so..." </p><p>"So what, Gabriel?" Ezra's voice had a sharp bite to it. It made Crowley believe that not all was lost. Maybe Ezra would still dump his sorry ass and ride off into the sunset with him. </p><p>"I could have given you money for a proper guide." </p><p>"You didn't even want me to come here." Ezra's white shirt was stained with blood. How did Gabriel not notice this? If he was so worried, why wasn't he asking if Ezra was okay, checking him for injuries, that sort of thing?</p><p>"Besides, Crowley is a proper guide. I heard he was the best so I hired him. It wasn't easy." </p><p>Gabriel looked over at him once more, still grimacing like his very presence was an offense to nature. "Still. This is all you had? It's not enough." </p><p>Infantilizing, that's what Gabriel was doing. He was treating Ezra like a child that couldn't be trusted to even dress himself. </p><p>"How did you even find me?" Ezra asked. </p><p>Gabriel snapped his fingers and the small army of men he had brought with him started unloading the camels and setting up camp. Crowley sighed and figured he should probably do the same. Bloody hell, even their camels looked nicer than his. How do you get a camel to look nice? They were all mangy looking things who would sooner kill you than sit for a bath. And were they... did Gabriel perfume the camels? Who was this guy? </p><p>"I looked at your notes. After you didn't come home, I got worried and remembered you had said something about going to Egypt. I thought we talked about this. I didn't feel comfortable with you going to Egypt all by yourself." </p><p>He took Ezra by the arm and led him away from Crowley. Christ, he was really getting rusty if Hastur and Ligur managed to sneak up on him twice, and Gabriel and his horde once. Gabriel led Ezra away from him so he could no longer hear their conversation. </p><p>He sighed and rested his forehead on Bentley's side. He was hoping that he could convince Ezra to immediately go somewhere else instead of returning home. The longer he spent away from Gabriel, the more likely he was so see what an awful person he was. Now, though, now all was lost. </p><p>"Do you like working for Gabriel?" Crowley asked one of the camel handlers in Arabic, hoping Gabriel didn't speak the language.</p><p>The handler laughed. "My friend, if he wasn't paying us each one thousand pounds a day to take him out here, we would have dumped him in the desert forty-five minutes into the expedition." </p><p>"Fuck, one thousand pounds. I don't blame you." He took one last look at Ezra and Gabriel, still talking on the horizon. His heart broke. Ezra's arms were crossed in front of him and he was staring at the ground, shoulders hunched. He had never seen him looking so... beaten down. What's worse was that he didn't know how he could help. For all the power he had gained by finding the amulet and breaking the curse, it was now completely stripped from him once more. He was just a man without a lot of say or sway and unable to help those he loved. Even if he only ever loved Ezra.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Maybe Now We Can Go Back to the Way Things Were</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Another chapter, another dollar. Man, I don't think I've ever had my inbox filled with so many screaming comments. Glad you guys enjoyed it. I don't know what the fuss is about, though. Everyone seems to hate Gabriel for some reason. Can't a guy just berate his fiancé constantly, shit all over his dreams, and then show up in the middle of a desert in some grand romantic gesture in peace?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ezra felt numb. He had never expected, never even thought, Gabriel would actually come out here after him. He thought he would stay behind in the UK, never to set foot in Egypt unless it was for some sort of political gain. And yet... </p><p>He looked over at his fiancé, who was sipping on coffee underneath a rather large tent. It was a nice setup, much nicer than what Crowley had. There were actual tables and chairs with actual dishes. It felt much less like a trip out to the desert than a ramble not too far from home. It reminded him of those spring garden parties where everyone was tittering around, trying to ignore the English rain whilst showing off their newest clothes and jewels, only nibbling on treats that were hardly more than a mouthful. </p><p>Ezra hated it.</p><p>He loved his comfort. He loved his cocoa, his books, his cushy armchairs, and fine foods. But something was liberating about being out here with little of the home comforts he had so grown to love. It was wild. It was free. It ignited in him the feral side all humans had tucked away beneath starched collars and brushed hair. </p><p>"I still can't believe Anathema talked you into doing this," Gabriel said with a deep sigh. Thankfully, after that (dreadful) kiss, he hadn’t attempted any other displays of affection, simply ushering Ezra to the tent to sit and relax. </p><p>Ezra bit his lip and looked down at his hands. He felt very much like a schoolboy in trouble with his teacher. He didn't think love was supposed to feel like this, especially after what he had experienced with Crowley. Yes, there were arguments and scolding, but it never felt… patronizing. </p><p>"Anathema never talked me into anything. I wanted to go, you knew that. It was my dream ever since I was a child to be--"</p><p>"Part of growing up means relinquishing boyhood dreams." Gabriel’s voice was sharp and cut through him, deep to his soul. </p><p>"Well, I was getting tired of sitting at home all day with nothing to do but wait for you. I'm sorry, Gabriel, I have my own goals too, and I rather think you don't respect them." There, he had said it. His feelings were out in the open. Now they would have to address it. Now he would finally get some answers. </p><p>"Were you cheating on me with that camel herder?" </p><p>What? What happened to Ezra's feelings? Why was Gabriel bringing this up now? </p><p>"What camel herder?" </p><p>"The redhead who had his filthy hands all over you when I came down." </p><p>"Crowley?" </p><p>Gabriel clicked his tongue. "Crowley. Why does that name sound so familiar?" </p><p>Come to think of it, if Crowley's story was true and he was the son of a high-ranking lawyer, Gabriel might know him. Ezra wracked his brain, trying to figure out if he had ever been introduced to a Mr. Crowley at a dinner party. </p><p>"I did not cheat on you with him." He said, his voice as sharp as he could make it. Of course, he had emotionally cheated on Gabriel, picturing Crowley having sex with him on multiple occasions. Goodness, He was about to kiss him tonight!</p><p>"I don't believe you. He took advantage of you, Ezra. If you admit it, we can deal with this properly." </p><p>Ezra felt rage flush his cheeks, his heart racing. "Crowley has never taken advantage of me. He has been a wonderful guide these past few weeks. I am thoroughly grateful for his service and you will not deal with him." </p><p>He felt his heart pounding in his chest. He had never stood up to Gabriel so much as he was right now. Maybe being away from him for all those weeks had caused him to gain some perspective on the relationship. He wasn't happy with it. He doubted he ever was. Gabriel had come to him like a whirlwind, sweeping him off his feet with expensive gifts and declarations of love. He never felt like he fully had his feet on the ground in those early days, like Gabriel's love were a Merri-go-round spinning faster and faster until he couldn't see straight. </p><p>Somewhere along the way, the Gabriel he had first met left and was replaced with this... imposter. This man who never brought him flowers, who never touched him, who never hugged or kissed him (except for tonight). </p><p>If you had asked Ezra what he was looking for in a partner, in a lover, he honestly could point to Gabriel and say, "Not that." </p><p>Why then did he feel the need to stay with him? Why then, did he not tell him off right here and now; tell him that he was not going back to London with him and their engagement was off. </p><p>Gabriel looked up from his coffee, his eyes narrowed. "You like him, don't you?" </p><p>"Well, he is a nice companion," Ezra said, knowing full well what Gabriel meant. </p><p>"You idiot, do you really think he likes you back?"</p><p>Ezra shifted in his seat and looked down at his hands. "I don't know why that matters--"</p><p>The sound of a coffee cup slamming into the table made him jump. "You are dumb enough to throw everything away for a man who, and I promise you, will never want you. He'll never choose you." </p><p>"You can't know that," he said, weakly protesting in a way that opened him up for more attacks. </p><p>"I can know that because I know his type. How much are you paying him to be with you?" </p><p>He winced. </p><p>"That's right, Ezra. You are paying for Crowley's company. He isn't with you because he has some deep-seated love for you. He's with you because you are giving him money." He started laughing. "You're like a man who thinks his whore is in love with him." </p><p>"Crowley is not a prostitute and I do not like what you're implying." He didn't look up, couldn't lookup. He didn't want to see what Gabriel looked like.</p><p>"I'm implying that you are a stupid, stupid man who gets too wrapped up in things emotionally. Do you really think some guy you're paying actually wants to be with you? He doesn't. He never has and he never will. I don't even know if he likes you." </p><p>"I mean--"</p><p>"Tell me one instance that shows that he actually likes you and doesn't just want your money?" </p><p>Ezra's mind flashed to Crowley using the amulet to save him and not break the curse. Except... couldn't that all be because he needed the rest of the money Ezra had promised him? </p><p>There were all the kind words and dancing at sunset. Those all had to be...</p><p>But could he be sure?</p><p>Gabriel put a hand on Ezra, causing him to jump and look at him. "I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you, you know I hate doing these kinds of things. But you get in over your head and I'm just trying to make sure you don't drown. Look at you, Ezra. Your hand is bandaged, your shirt is bloody and filthy, you're sunburnt, you have bags underneath your eyes. You aren't meant for the kind of life Crowley leads. You can't expect him to want to be with you. He knows your weakness now. He knows what he'll get himself into if he joins you. You need to be realistic. Please, for once in your life, just think about things logically." </p><p>How could Gabriel switch so effortlessly between shouting and rage back to soft tenderness and whispered apologies? What was his true nature? What were his true feelings? Why was Ezra never able to be steady around him? It hurt his head to think about. </p><p>Ezra opened his mouth, desperate for something to come out in his defense, in Crowley's defense. He couldn't think of anything. There was absolutely nothing to say that could convince Gabriel that Ezra wasn't making a mistake. And maybe that was because he was right. He always was better at reading people than Ezra. </p><p>Hell, the first day in Cairo he almost got mugged and killed had it not been for Crowley's intervention. And Crowley only intervened because he wanted the Amulet. Had Ezra not been looking for the Amulet, Crowley never would have looked his way, never would have cared about him. </p><p>"Let's go to bed." Gabriel took his hands and led him to the bed set up in the corner. </p><p>Tears welled up in his eyes as he took it all in. Crowley didn't care about him. Gabriel didn't love him. He had chosen this over spending the rest of eternity with his mother. Why was he so stupid?</p><p>oOoOoOo</p><p>The trip back to Suef was much quicker than the trip out to the temple. It made Ezra wonder why they just didn't take the train down, hop over and hop back. Perhaps Crowley wanted to give him a more authentic experience? Or perhaps it was simply more difficult to get camels onto a train. </p><p>He was in first class with Gabriel, having showered and cleaned up, now in clean clothes. Sadly, the shirt Anathema had bought him went in the trash. It was damaged beyond repair. He did manage to hold onto the boots and trousers, however. He would have to find some way to keep them from Gabriel. He wanted to remember this trip, even if it was the only one he ever went on. His hand was no longer broken, healed up perfectly without even a scar. </p><p>He ran his fingers over the knuckled, once swollen and painful. It was like the fight never happened. For some reason, this made him melancholy. </p><p>Being back in civilization was a bit of a shock. He was so used to having no one but Crowley around for miles and yet here, there were people all over the place. He was constantly bumping into people, brushing up past them, and hearing too many things to concentrate on. Like now. </p><p>No one was loud, but he could still hear every conversation, every bite, every sigh, every clink of a spoon against a teacup. It was loud, roaring in his ears and surrounding him in a horrible cacophony that he couldn’t escape. </p><p>Gabriel was ignoring him again. He was reading the paper again. Every rustle, every turn of the page pounded on Ezra’s skull, louder, louder, louder, louder, louder. </p><p>He stood up. </p><p>"Where are you going?" Gabriel asked, not looking up from the paper. </p><p>"I need to ask Mr. Crowley about his lodgings so that I can send him the rest of the money he is owed." He left before Gabriel could argue with him. He'd only be with Crowley for a few minutes and then come straight back. There was no need to worry. </p><p>Crowley was in third-class with the rest of the camel caravan. It was even more crowded here, and there was a lot more dirt and trash scattered about. Ezra hoped he didn't stick out too much with his white shirt and light trousers. Of course, he was much fairer of complexion than most of the people back here, and his hair certainly made him stick out. Still, no one said anything to him or came up to him. They all ignored him like he was a ghost and if they didn’t acknowledge him, he’d vanish without bothering anyone. He hunched in on himself. How was it that he felt so isolated surrounded by so many people? </p><p>There was so much he missed about the desert, so much he needed now. He needed Bentley, chewing on his hair while Freddie and James rolled around in the sand. He needed tough, dried meat and fruits. He needed bitter coffee and uncomfortable tents. Most importantly of all, he needed… </p><p>Crowley was sitting with a group of kids playing some sort of card game with them. He stopped, watching. So Crowley did have another soft spot. He put on this air of venom, but it was all an act. If he had a soft spot for kids and camels, maybe... No, don't get any hope. Keep to the mission. Stay the course that is the safest. </p><p>He swallowed and stepped into the car. He was simply a specter in Crowley’s life, someone who would vanish once he was done. He’d leave nothing behind but a memory, which would eventually fade and be covered with new experiences. And Crowley did have so much he could experience now. </p><p>"Crowley?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper. </p><p>Crowley looked up, having procured some new sunglasses at the market. They made him look so dashing. The stubble that had grown on his face was also gone, leaving him as smooth shaved as the day they met. </p><p>"Angel, I mean, Mr. Fell. What do I owe the pleasure?" </p><p>"Um, I wanted to know how to reach you, to give you the rest of your money. You definitely earned it." He had planned on giving Crowley more than they originally agreed upon. After all, Crowley needed money for the camel sanctuary and a ticket, and to help him set up his new life somewhere else if he wanted to go anywhere else. </p><p>"Right." Crowley dropped his cards and stood up. "Um, I guess I'm just going to stay at the Sunflower Inn. It's on the north side of town, on the Nile." </p><p>Ezra nodded. "I didn't know you could speak Arabic," he said, desperate for this conversation not to end. </p><p>"Yeah, kind of have to if you live in Egypt." </p><p>"Right." </p><p>They stood there, looking at each other. </p><p>"How are the camels? Do they mind being on the train?" </p><p>Crowley shrugged. "They don't like it, but they'll deal with it." </p><p>"Right." </p><p>They stood there for another minute. </p><p>Ezra sighed. "Well, if you excuse me. I must be going, dear." </p><p>"Ezra, wait," Crowley grabbed his arm. </p><p>His heart skipped a beat. Was Crowley going to confess to him? Was he going to admit that this feeling was mutual? </p><p>"Send me a copy, when it's published." He said. </p><p>Ezra's smile fell. "Will you be staying in Egypt then?" </p><p>Crowley shook his head. </p><p>"Then, how will I get ahold of you?" </p><p>"Just send it to the Camel Sanctuary. I'll give you the details when we get to Cairo. She'll know where I'm at." </p><p>Great, so a woman who runs a camel sanctuary would know where Crowley was at, but Ezra wouldn't. </p><p>He swallowed and nodded. "Right. I certainly will. Thank you, my dear. You were marvelous out in the desert." </p><p>He turned and went back to first-class, his heart shattering into pieces.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Alright, and that's the end. Thank you so much for tagging along for this wild ride. I'm so glad everyone enjoyed this fic. I think I'll move onto something else now. This ending feels like a good ending.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Bubble Baths and Self Reflections</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Trigger warning: internal fat shaming, very mild and very brief.  References to physical abuse, mental and emotional abuse</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cairo felt different from last time. It felt foreign like Ezra had never set foot in the city. It was a ridiculous notion since he had spent several days here previously, going to little cafes and marketplaces. And yet, despite the past, he felt like a stranger, like Cairo had changed and shifted around him. It was unnerving and made his head spin. He didn’t say anything, though. He didn’t know how to explain what he was feeling to his fiancé. Then again, even if he did know how to explain this, he didn’t know if Gabriel would listen, or ridicule. He hated not knowing if Gabriel would ridicule. </p><p>Gabriel had booked them a room at a truly luxurious hotel that had the most wonderful views of the Pyramids and surrounding Egyptian desert. The city below their window was alight with activity and life. The room itself was the height of luxury, draped in golden silk, and airy cotton. Ezra could easily picture this room as the perfect backdrop for a honeymoon. Crowley’s red hair would shine against the crisp white sheets and Ezra ached to know what making love on silk felt like. </p><p>“How about we stay here for a few days?” Gabriel said, wrapping his arms around Ezra’s waist and kissing the back of his neck. “It’s been a while since we went on holiday.” </p><p>“That sounds lovely, Gabriel,” Ezra said, attempting to squirm out of Gabriel’s hold. He was much more affectionate now than he had been these past few months. He even held Ezra’s hand as they disembarked from the train. Perhaps Ezra leaving him scared him, made him think about all he would lose if he didn’t change his ways. </p><p>He could only hope it lasted, that it wasn’t a façade meant to trick him into doing something he didn’t want to do. He felt lost and needed to get his feet on the ground. He needed to think, away from Crowley and away from Gabriel. He needed… he needed… he needed to take a bath. He had done his best to scrub off the blood and dirt on the train, but the resulting attempts left his skin streaky and he still didn’t feel clean. </p><p>“I’m going to wash up. I want to feel like a human again,” he said, finally managing to break out of Gabriel’s hold. </p><p>“Alright, sunshine. We have dinner reservations in a bit. Lucky for you, I packed some nicer clothes so you don’t have to wear those rags anymore.” </p><p>He flushed, his mind already springing forward with a defense of clothes that had been appropriate for a trek through the desert. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to start an argument. Gabriel never hurt him physically, but his words cut him to the bone. </p><p>He stepped into the bathroom and shut the door with the excuse that he wanted to clean up and make himself look presentable again. Gabriel had managed to swing a dinner reservation at a high-class Cairo restaurant. It would be shameful for him to show up looking like some dirty tramp. Gabriel would be so mad and if there were high-profile people there, it could ruin his image. </p><p>“It’s always about Gabriel’s image,” he muttered while stripping off his clothes. </p><p>He sighed and looked at himself in the mirror for the first time in what felt like years. He looked like himself, but also different. His body was still round, still plump and soft, but he could see muscles in places where there weren’t muscles before. His arms and shoulders seemed more defined from loading and unloading camels. His calves, quads, and hamstrings were harder from walking across uneven sand. </p><p>His face, still round, had lost some of the softness that came with too many days at home and not enough adventure. He had some stubble that needed to be shaved off. Even as an adult, he struggled to grow facial hair. This was probably the most he had had in years. His hair was longer, the curls more pronounced. The blond even whiter from the bleaching efforts of the sun. It tickled the back of his neck and his ears. He wasn’t sure he liked it this long, but it did look nice. Come to think of it, he did look a lot like those Renaissance paintings of angels. Powerful, strong, soft, kind, dangerous, beautiful. Perhaps he was thinking too highly of himself, comparing his unattractive body to the masterpieces of artists long gone. </p><p>His skin was tan and beaten from wind and sand. His hands were no longer smooth, but rough and calloused, his nails short and chipped from the hard work. Cuts and bruises were littering his body, some he couldn’t remember getting. His skin was dull and flaking. There were dark circles and bags under his eyes. His lips were chapped, dried blood and skin flaking around the corners. The ends of his hair split and frizzing. He didn’t look like an angel from a painting. He looked like a tired, old, fat human. </p><p>He forced himself to look away from the mirror and back towards the tub. Curls of steam were wisping up over the water. </p><p>Stepping over to the tub, he sank into the sumptuous, hot water and sighed. The perfumed scent of soap wafted over him. He had chosen an oil mixture of lavender, bergamot, chamomile, and geranium. Just smelling it in the air made him feel like he was melting. The added hot water truly transformed him into a puddle. There were so many sounds, so many sights, so many pleasures he had missed while out in the desert. Somehow, his enjoyment of them had grown ten-fold now that he was reintroduced to him. </p><p>Even with all this luxury, even with Gabriel finally paying attention to him, he still felt empty. He still felt so sad and lost. Why had he even run off to Egypt in the first place? Was it to prove himself? Was it to escape? Was it to finally get over his desire to travel? </p><p>“Was this the life you were hoping I went back to, mother?” he asked, knowing there would be no response. “Are you still proud of the choices I’m making?” </p><p>He wished she were here with him now. If he could just ask her, maybe she could give him some guidance. Though, perhaps she wasn’t the right person to ask. Perhaps he should be asking himself about his feeling and emotions. It was his life, after all, that was falling apart before his eyes. It was his feet that weren’t fully on the ground. </p><p>He cupped the water in his hands and watched it trickle out. His mother wasn’t here and he couldn’t ask her, so in the end, it didn’t matter what she thought. He had to be honest with himself. It was easier, to be honest alone in a hot bath. It felt safe, comforting. He didn’t have to worry about angry fiancés or disappointing looks. He could just exist here and now in the water. So, if he was being honest, he would say he wasn’t proud of himself. He had fallen back into Gabriel’s arms without a fight, save for that pathetic attempt back at the temple. </p><p>He could have stood his ground, back there. He could have firmly told Gabriel that he wasn’t interested. That he was breaking off their engagement and he was going to do what he pleased. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. He bit his tongue and followed Gabriel like a puppy to do the things he wanted to do when he wanted to do them. He didn’t ask to go somewhere different for dinner. He didn’t ask to stay in Cairo. He didn’t ask for Gabriel to come. He just accepted all of this without a fight. He couldn’t argue; he couldn’t risk it. </p><p>There were too many variables. The devil that you know is always better than the devil that you don’t and he didn’t want to risk giving up everything he had on the off chance that Crowley might want to be with him. </p><p>“It doesn’t matter now. I’ve made my choice.” He sighed, sinking further into the bath. </p><p>He felt his stomach give a little jump. He sat up, brow furrowed, as he thought about what he just said. </p><p>“It doesn’t matter now. Crowley doesn’t matter.” He bit his lip. </p><p>With shaking hands, he grabbed the soap and washcloth and began scrubbing himself down. He hadn’t known Crowley when he came to Cairo. He flew here on an aeroplane with nothing but a name and some directions from a friend. Crowley didn’t factor into his choice at all when he was thinking about places to go and adventures to have. It was true that he liked the idea of meeting a mysterious stranger, but he also didn’t hold much hope of keeping in contact with sed mysterious stranger. Hell, Tracy had told him that Crowley was nearly impossible to hire, and yet Ezra went anyway. </p><p>He put some shampoo in his hair and started scrubbing. The water was turning murky thanks to all the sand and dried blood on his body. </p><p>Hell, his mother hadn’t even told him where to go. He decided all on his own that he wanted to visit Egypt. He was the one who put pins on the map. He was the one who researched lost treasures and hidden temples. Crowley didn’t do any of it. Crowley didn’t make any decisions about his life. </p><p>Next was the conditioner. He started to work out the tangles in his hair, his mind becoming clearer with each passing moment. </p><p>Gabriel didn’t matter either. If anything, Gabriel mattered the least because Ezra didn’t want to be anywhere near the man. He recoiled from his touch, he hated the thought of spending the rest of his life with him, he hated being around him. He had no bearing on what Ezra chose to do with his life. Ezra had come to Egypt, by himself, even after Gabriel had told him not to go. And he was planning on running off to China afterward without ever consulting Gabriel either. </p><p>Next came the razor and shaving cream, to get rid of the itchy stubble. </p><p>It didn’t matter because Ezra, in the end, was the only person who truly mattered in his life. It was his choice, his desires, his dreams and ambitions that mattered to him, not anyone else’s. Of course, being aware of what other people wanted was crucial for maintaining relationships. But it was ultimately not the most important thing when it came to one’s happiness. </p><p>Anathema never expressed a desire to traipse around the world with him. Was he going to stop because she didn’t want to go? Madam Tracy was constantly off on her adventures, doing what she wanted regardless of what Ezra thought. Was she supposed to stop her seances in Switzerland because Ezra didn’t want to do them? </p><p>He got out of the tub and dried himself with a fluffy towel. </p><p>When he was a boy, his mother let him make his own choices and chase his dreams. As an adult, he was chained to what other people wanted, never truly doing what he needed to do to make himself happy. </p><p>But what other people wanted didn’t matter. Whether or not Crowley wanted to come with him didn’t matter. </p><p>Of course, Ezra would be heartbroken, he did so love the man. But he would rather be heartbroken searching for Empress Xixi’s lost crown than heartbroken in a loveless marriage that was merely to fill a need for Gabriel’s political image. </p><p>He looked at his pocket watch. They still had about four hours before dinner reservations. He bit his lip. He should just tell Gabriel that he was calling off their engagement, but a jump in his gut worried what Gabriel might do to him if he disobeyed so blatantly. </p><p>“Gabriel’s never hit me,” he whispered to himself. It was true, but there had been a few close calls. He didn’t want to risk it, just like he didn’t want to risk it when he first left. </p><p>He was alone, in a hotel room with a man who liked to get his way. He couldn’t leave without saying anything, but he had to leave safely. </p><p>“How was your bath, sunshine?” Gabriel asked, still not looking up from the paper. </p><p>“Marvelous,” Ezra said, sitting down at the desk and beginning to write. His suitcase, with the rest of Crowley’s money, his journals, and the remaining clothes Anathema had gotten for him, was shut and by the door. Nothing in there was worth Gabriel’s time and attention, so there was no reason for Ezra to unpack anything. </p><p>He swallowed, folded up the note, and stuck it in his pocket. </p><p>“Gabriel, I have to go give Mr. Crowley the rest of the money. He’s not far from here, only a few streets away if I’m not mistaken.” </p><p>“Can’t you send it to him with a courier?” Gabriel asked. “I don’t like the thought of you being alone with that man, Ezra. I know you said he didn’t take advantage of you, but I still worry. The state of you when I got there, it looked like you were horribly injured.” </p><p>Ezra laughed. “I’m worried a courier might steal the money, and then Mr. Crowley will have a reason to hurt me.” He didn’t believe it for a second, especially not at an establishment like this, but Gabriel’s racism (how had he missed it before?) was an easy way to get him to do something. </p><p>“Besides, it’s still daylight and I’ll have the hotel desk call up to him so we’ll meet in the lobby.” He bent down and kissed Gabriel’s cheek. “I shan’t be long, dear.” </p><p>Gabriel sighed. “Alright, if you insist. I’ll come looking for you if it’s more than an hour. Where is he staying at?” </p><p>“The Daylily Inn,” Ezra lied. If Crowley said no to him, which was well within his right, he didn’t want Gabriel to find him and hurt him. </p><p>“Got it. Remember, dinner is at seven.” </p><p>“I know, dear,” Ezra said, walking to the door, grabbing the suitcase, and leaving before Gabriel noticed what he had taken. </p><p>Down at the lobby, he handed the letter to the desk clerk. “Please give this to Gabriel Messenger in Room 301 at four o’clock PM.” </p><p>The clerk nodded and smiled at him. “Of course, sir. Anything you want me to say to him when I deliver it?” </p><p>Ezra thought for a bit. He smiled. “Tell him it’s from his ex-fiancé.” </p><p>The clerk’s smile was knowing, but he made no mention of it. “Of course, sir. Is there anything else I can do for you?” </p><p>“I also need you to send these telegrams. Oh, and could you be a dear and call me a cab. I need to get to the Sunflower Inn.” </p><p>The clerk took the messages and handed it to another person before picking up the phone. “That is a very nice hotel. I think you will enjoy your stay there, sir.” </p><p>“Oh, I’m not staying there. I’m just popping over for a visit.” </p><p>“Of course, sir.” He turned away from Ezra for a moment and spoke in Arabic on the phone. It was a lovely language and if Crowley did say yes, Ezra might just get him to teach him a few words. </p><p>After a few minutes, the clerk turned back. “There is a cab outside waiting for you.” </p><p>“Thank you so much.” He handed the clerk a tip that was probably far too much (Gabriel never left a tip) and walked outside to the waiting cab. </p><p>“My friend, you are not dead!” The driver said. Ezra recognized him as the man who had originally driven him to Bes’s Bar and Club on his first day.</p><p>He couldn’t help but smile. “No, I’m not!” </p><p>“I was afraid when I dropped you off there. Nothing good ever happens in that part of town.” </p><p>Ezra thought back to Crowley. “I wouldn’t say nothing good ever happens, but it was a hairy situation. We never were properly introduced, I’m Ezra Fell, writer.” </p><p>The man eagerly took his hand and shook it. “Abasi Ibrahim, cab driver. Where do you need to go Mr. Fell?” He opened the passenger door for him. </p><p>“The Sunflower Inn, please. And please, call me Ezra. I’ve had enough overly polite conversations to last a lifetime. If I am never called Mr. Fell again, it will be all too welcome.” </p><p>“Of course, I can. It’s much nicer than where I dropped you off all those weeks ago. I am amazed you are still alive.” </p><p>Ezra patted his heart, right where the bullet went in. There was no scar or even a twinge to signal he had been shot, only his memory. “Oh, I had a rough go of it for a while, but I’m here, in one piece.” </p><p>“Good to hear. I have some news too.”</p><p>“Oh?” </p><p>“Yes, my cousin, the one I told you about, well he and I invested money in a ferry business that takes boats back to Europe. We’ve made it big! Best steamers in the Mediterranean. I hear the King and Queen of England are coming down using our boats.” </p><p>Ezra grinned even wider, glad to know the man who had shown him some kindness was being rewarded. “If that’s true, then why are you still driving cabs in Cairo?” </p><p>Abasi laughed. “Someone has to ferry customers over to Port Said.” </p><p>“That is true.” Then Ezra had an idea. “Say, do you have any boats leaving tomorrow?” </p><p>“Of course, we do. Though, you’ll probably need to take an early evening one so you have time to get up there. There’s a train leaving for Port Said soon and it goes all night. If you hurry, you’ll probably have plenty of time to make it.”  </p><p>Ezra nodded. “I guess I’ll have to hurry with my business, then. Thank you, my friend. You’ve been one of the more helpful people on my journey.” </p><p>“You’re very welcome. You said you’re a writer? I’ll be looking for your work, then.”   </p><p>Ezra smiled. He didn’t know if Crowley would want to go with him, or if Crowley would want to stay with him forever, but for the first time since his mother died, Ezra felt like he was well and truly living. He felt like he was making decisions and living his life on his terms. It might all end up a burning puddle of goo. He might be making the biggest mistake of his life, but staying with Gabriel was not the right option. He knew that now, and he was going to stick with his gut and do what was best for him. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought. He was in control now, and no one would ever take that away from him again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Fun fact: my dumb American ass thought Cairo was on the coast, so when I went to figure out where common ferries from Egypt land in Europe (pertinent to the next two chapters) I realized you can't really get to Europe from Cairo by boat that easily. So, I had to completely rewrite this chapter to have it make sense where Ezra was heading. </p><p>Anyways, glad everyone had a collective heart attack last chapter. Now we can get back on track with the actual plot: getting Crowley to pound that angel into the mattress.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Every Gets a Letter (Except for Crowley)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you everyone who left comments last week! I'm glad y'all liked Ezra choosing himself. I was worried that it was a bit of a cop-out, but I also think it's an important reminder. The people you love will come and go, sadly, but only you will have to live with yourself forever. It's okay to leave people who no longer on the same page as you (though this case was a bit more extreme with abuse, always leave your abusers.) Anyways, Gabriel is gone now and Crowley and Ezra can live happily ever after, so Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Crowley sighed dramatically for the tenth time in ten minutes. He was in the Sunflower Inn, flopped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. </p><p>The camels had been dropped off at the sanctuary earlier. Luckily, Dottie, the woman who ran the place, had enough decency to leave him alone for a few minutes while he said goodbye to his only faithful companions these past few years. </p><p>He said goodbye in a very masculine and tactful way with a stiff upper lip. (This was incorrect, he was a blubbering mess and hugged Freddie's matted, mangy, smelly neck until the camel got well and truly pissed and bit him on the ear. Crowley wouldn’t have wanted any other farewell.) </p><p>Now he was all alone. No more Ezra. No more camels. No more adventures. He was grateful to get rid of the curse, make no mistake. Sleeping had been so much better now that he didn't have to worry about his body heat. Blasted, cold-blooded snake body, he never could move well late at night. And it was nice not having to worry about accidentally losing his clothes while transformed. </p><p>Still, he felt so empty; so alone. The world was his oyster now. He wasn't stuck here. He had just enough money to get a boat ticket back to the mainland. Maybe once he got to Italy, he'd walk back to London. He had been on longer journeys out in the desert and surely he could find some way to pay for food while he was traveling. And when he got back to London, maybe he could… </p><p>His mind drifted back to Ezra. </p><p>"No, stop that. He isn't going to choose you." He scolded himself. "You knew that when you healed him." </p><p>Still, he had hoped Ezra wouldn't return to Gabriel, wouldn't fall so easily under his spell once more. He touched a finger to his lips. He had been so close, so close to helping Ezra break free. If only Gabriel had held off for just a few more days, he could have freed him completely. They could be together now, lying side by side on this plush bed in a quaint little inn overlooking the Nile. He liked to imagine that they’d both be naked at this point, perhaps sweaty from sex. God, he wanted to feel Ezra come apart under his hands so badly. </p><p>"I wish there was something more I could do," he sighed again. He felt so helpless, so powerless against the world. All this work to break the curse, and he couldn't even enjoy it. </p><p>He felt guilty. Surely there was something he missed, something he needed but didn’t do. Maybe he should have pushed harder. Maybe he should have confronted Gabriel. Maybe he should have been more direct about his feelings towards Ezra. He was a coward, too worried to say the wrong things, and now look at him. The love of his life had gone back to a man who didn’t love him and Crowley would never see him again. </p><p>There was a knock at the door. </p><p>"Go away, I don't need my room to be cleaned." He shouted. That was one thing he didn't like about hotels, bloody maids coming in and out at all hours of the day. He wanted to mope about in peace.</p><p>"Um, it's not the cleaning staff, Crowley." </p><p>"Ezra!" He leaped off the bed and rushed over to the mirror, trying to tame his wild hair and make himself look more presentable. Why was he here? He did owe Crowley some money, but he hadn’t expected to get it. </p><p>"Yes, it's me." </p><p>He checked his teeth. Was there anything in them? Spinach? No, probably not. When's the last time he had spinach?</p><p>"Are you okay? Are you going to open the door? I have the rest of your money." </p><p>Shit. He was taking too long. Did his shirt look nice? It was the same shirt he had been wearing for weeks now, but he washed it. Did he need to iron it as well? Did his breath smell? Did he smell? </p><p>"Crowley?" </p><p>"Shit, yeah. Hang on, I'm coming." He ran a hand once more through his hair, decided it was a hopeless cause, and went to open the door as smoothly as he could. </p><p>He ended up banging it into his knee. </p><p>"Are you okay?" Ezra asked, looking at him worriedly. </p><p>"Yeah, I'm fine. You know, just enjoying luxury." He motioned to the room behind him. </p><p>"Yes, it is nice in here," Ezra said, peering around him to look at the room. </p><p>"So, how are you?" he asked. God, he was like a teenager talking to his first crush. His tongue felt heavy and the words he wanted to say weren't coming out of his mouth. </p><p>"I'm fine. Gabriel wants to stay in Cairo for a bit, see the sights, look around. You know." </p><p>"Ah, that's great. It's a beautiful city."</p><p>"We're meant to go to dinner tonight... at the Bella Italiana." Ezra bit his lip and looked down.</p><p>Crowley quirked an eyebrow. "You're in Egypt and you're going to be eating... Italian food?" </p><p>Ezra nodded. "It's supposed to be very fancy. Gabriel picked it out." </p><p>"If you say so." </p><p>They were silent for a few moments. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do. All he knew was that Ezra was here, with him, and he was going to go to dinner with Gabriel tonight. This whole staying in Cairo thing was probably just an attempt to get back on Ezra's good side, to reel him back in so that he would never leave again. </p><p>Ezra whipped his head up, eyes burning with some unnamed emotion. "Do you know I died? I actually died?" His voice sounded angry and strong with passion. </p><p>That was not what he expected him to say. "Um, yeah. I was there, remember?" </p><p>Ezra pushed past him into the room, running his hands through his hair. "I also broke my hand punching a man. I've never hit anyone in my life and yet, I punched him, in the face! I broke his nose and I broke my hand!" </p><p>Crowley didn't know where this was going. Ezra seemed a bit unhinged, pacing in his room like a wild animal, ranting about all the injuries he had sustained during their trip. Was he angry at Crowley for not preventing them?</p><p>"I have blisters on my feet and hands. My shirt that my friend got me was ruined and had to be thrown away. I have never gone so long without a shower and the skin on the back of my neck is so badly sunburned that it's blistered and now peeling like some sort of... a snake!" </p><p>"Yeah, are you angry with me?" Crowley asked, still unsure how to handle this.</p><p>"And today, I took a bath, a real bath, with hot water and perfumed soap and fancy lotions and shampoo. I took a bath for the first time in almost two months." </p><p>"And you smell great," Crowley said, feeling stupid that he couldn't offer more. </p><p>"And it was probably the best bath that I had ever taken in my life! And food! I was eating dried meat and camel's milk for the better part of two months and the first biscuit I got on the train was a chocolate coconut concoction that was marvelous on the tongue. It was quite possibly the best biscuit I had ever tasted." </p><p>"Yeah? Do you want me to figure out the recipe for you?" Where was this all going? Why was Ezra here, ranting in his room about baths and biscuits?</p><p>"And I thought to myself, as I was in the bath, 'I've had baths before. The lotion and soap are not so different than what I use at home. The biscuit was not so different from other ones that I've eaten before, so why do I feel like these are so much better? What's changed?" </p><p>"Well, you were out in the desert for almost two months. That's enough denial to reset your pleasures, I think," Crowley responded. </p><p>"Exactly. I was out in the desert for two months. Two months where I got blisters on my feet, where I was shot at and killed temporarily, where I got into fistfights with ruffians who wanted to kidnap me. I have never, in my life, been so dirty and scared and tired and sore. I have never felt such a desire to just lay on a bed and sleep, truly sleep, because it's a bed and it’s softer than any rocky, sandy, dune I ever set a tent on." </p><p>He took a deep breath and turned to face Crowley. There was determination in his eyes, a power Crowley had never seen before. </p><p>"I also realized, that you don't matter." </p><p>"Gee, thanks." </p><p>He was pacing again. "You do matter because you're a person and therefore you deserve some level of comfort and respect. But if I want to make a choice that's different from what you want, in the end, you don't matter. And neither does Gabriel or Madam Tracy or Anathema or Abasi. None of them matter because, at the end of the day, the only one who has to live with my choices is me. The only one who has to live my life is me. So I need to stop making choices based on what other people want and start making choices based on what I want." </p><p>"Good for you? Who’s Abasi?" He still wasn't sure where this was going, but Ezra was on a roll and Crowley had never seen him so determined. It was kind of hot. </p><p>Once more Ezra turned to face him. He held out an envelope that was probably filled with money. "Here is the rest of your payment, for bringing me home safely." </p><p>Crowley took it. "Thanks, angel. I'm glad you're alive." This was probably Ezra's strange way of saying goodbye. But there was something different about him, something that made Crowley want to keep quiet and see where this went.</p><p>"After this, I am going to Port Said where I will get on a boat back to the mainland. After that, I will be taking an inter-continental train to China where I will spend a few weeks cleaning up my manuscript and researching potential leads for Empress Xixi's missing crown."</p><p>"I thought Gabriel wanted to stay a few days in Cairo?" </p><p>"I don't care what Gabriel thinks. I broke up with him."</p><p>Crowley's eyes bulged. That was... unexpected. And quick. They had only been back together for a few days. </p><p>"As I said, he wanted something else from me, and I was tired of trying to be someone I wasn't." He looked down, for the first time today looking nervous. "Well, I suppose I didn't really break up with him. I wrote him a letter, explaining everything. I was afraid he wouldn't let me leave if I told it to his face." </p><p>"Oh, angel," Crowley breathed, stepping forward to hug him, only stopping himself, unsure of what Ezra wanted in this instance. He wanted to comfort Ezra and punch Gabriel in the face, but he also didn’t want to overstep his boundaries. Still, the fact that Ezra left that good-for-nothing bastard gave him hope. </p><p>Ezra looked at him once more. “I came here to invite you to come with me. I am not only very attracted to you, but I also might be in love with you. You don’t have to say yes, Crowley. I want you to be free to live your life however you see fit. But I also want you to know how much you mean to me. And if you want to come but don’t want to be anything more than friends, I would still be happy.” </p><p>Crowley sucked in a breath. “I don’t know anything about China.” </p><p>“That’s what research is for.” </p><p>“Did you want to kiss me, that night at the temple?” </p><p>Ezra bit his lip and nodded. “More than anything.” </p><p>“And do you still want to kiss me?” He needed to make sure. He needed to know that he wasn’t overstepping his bounds. </p><p>“More than anything.” </p><p>That was all the confirmation he needed. He swept Ezra up in his arms and dipped him low, just like he had that night they danced together. He paused for a moment, gave Ezra a chance to say no, to push him away, and then when he didn’t, he kissed him. </p><p>One of Ezra’s hands tangled in his hair, the other one gripped his shoulder as they embraced, the world fading around them as Crowley drunk in Ezra’s scent, his taste, his feeling. He never believed that thing about sparks flying when two people kissed, but he couldn’t deny they were flying now. </p><p>He wanted to stay like this forever, kissing the person he loved most in the world, but Ezra pushed his shoulders and righted himself. </p><p>"I would love to kiss you more, but the cab driver is waiting."</p><p>"In a hurry?" Crowley said, turning to grab what few items he had before closing the door. </p><p>"Yes, quite." Ezra looked ashamed. "I'm sorry." </p><p>"What? Why?" </p><p>"I wanted to break up with Gabriel properly, face to face. He's never hit me, you know." </p><p>Crowley took Ezra's hand in his and squeezed it. "I know, angel. You did what you thought was best." </p><p>"I feel like a coward." </p><p>He kissed his cheek, hoping to reassure him just a bit. "Not in the slightest. It's hard to leave someone when you don't know what they're going to do. I'm proud of you." </p><p>"And you're okay? With the fact that I went back with him?" </p><p>Crowley could tell him what Isis had said, all the warnings, but he didn't want to make Ezra feel worse. "No. As I said, it's hard to do something like this. Besides, hopefully, he'll get the hint now." </p><p>"Oh, he will. I sent Anathema a telegram telling her of the news and instructing her to start locking up the estate so he can't do anything to it. Hopefully, when he gets back to England, he will be unable to even step foot onto the grounds. I hear Madame Tracy's husband is rather handy with a gun." </p><p>Crowley snorted as they made their way down the stairs. "Sargent Shadwell? He's not handy so much as he is crazy." </p><p>"That's right, I forgot you two knew each other. How do you know each other?" </p><p>"Hired him to help me on a few expeditions. Once you know how to deal with him, he's fine. But until then, lookout. He's more of a danger to himself than to others, though." </p><p>Ezra introduced him to Abasi, who was a cab driver he had met twice. He seemed pleasant enough and chattered on about his cousin’s ferry business. Crowley didn’t care, as long as he was with Ezra, they could get back to Europe in a rowboat. </p><p>Once at the train station, Ezra thanked Abasi profusely and handed him over a stack of money that was far too much. Crowley didn’t say anything, instead of taking his hand as they rushed to the teller. She didn’t speak English, so he had to ask her what seats were available in Arabic. Ezra looked like had stars in his eyes when Crowley spoke. It made him feel cool.</p><p>"The train leaves in ten minutes," the teller said. "And there are only first-class tickets available." </p><p>Crowley relayed the information to Ezra, vowing to teach him some Arabic later so that he could at least function in this part of the world. </p><p>"Well, what else are you going to do with the money. I've already talked to Abasi and we'll only need about fifty pounds for a first-class cabin on the boat I'm planning on taking. He's sending a telegram to his brother to hold it for us."</p><p>"Then we'll take the first-class train tickets." He handed the money over to the teller, grinning from ear to ear as possibilities for the future opened up before him. He had never felt so much hope and joy and excitement for the future. It was intoxicating. Once their tickets were printed up, he grabbed Ezra's hands and they rushed for the train, just barely making it before it started up, heading away from Cairo. Tomorrow, they'd be on a boat, heading towards Athens. Then they'd head over to China. After that... who knew what lay in store for them? </p><p>For now, in their Private First Class cabin, while the Egyptian countryside flew by, he was content with kissing Ezra again and again and again. Ezra didn't seem to mind one bit. </p><p>oOoOoOo</p><p>"Telegram for you, miss," Anathema’s assistant walked into her office. </p><p>Anathema thanked him and took the note from him, praying it was from Ezra. She hadn't heard from him for almost two months now. He had told her in his last telegram that this was to be expected, but she still couldn't help but worry. She had pushed him to do this, after all. What if he got killed? What if he was hurt? What if he was mugged and lost all his money and couldn't get back to the UK? There were so many questions that she couldn't answer, not until she had a letter. </p><p>Of course, it didn't help that she got word of Gabriel leaving for Egypt not long after Ezra had taken off. She hoped he had been able to avoid him. This whole trip was supposed to help him clear his head and get him away from that monster. Still, she couldn't do anything; just sit and pray and hope that Ezra was strong enough to leave. </p><p>She sipped her tea, knowing she was putting off the letter, afraid of what horrible news it was going to say. Ezra might be dead. Gabriel might have married him in Egypt, meaning all of Ezra's assets were now his, no matter what Anathema did to protect them. </p><p>She swallowed and picked up the telegram. The sooner she knew what it was, the sooner she could deal with the fallout. </p><p>Holding her breath, she opened it. </p><p>DEAREST ANATHEM STOP</p><p>I HAVE WRITTEN TO INFORM YOU THAT I HAVE DISSOLVED THE ENGAGEMENT BETWEEN GABRIEL AND MYSELF STOP </p><p>I NEED YOU TO IMMEDIATELY TAKE ACTION TO SECURE MY ASSETS FROM HIM STOP</p><p>PLEASE ENSURE THAT HE WILL NOT HAVE ACCESS TO THE ESTATE OR GROUNDS STOP</p><p>CONTACT HIS LAWYERS TO FIGURE OUT WHERE TO SEND HIS THINGS IMMEDIATELY STOP</p><p>ALSO PLEASE BE SURE TO PROTECT ANYTHING FROM THEM STOP</p><p>THEY ARE LIKE THE VULTURES LAWYERS ARE OFTEN THOUGHT TO BE NO OFFENSE STOP</p><p>I HAVE MET SOMEONE VERY HANDSOME AND WE ARE HEADING TO CHINA ON OUR NEXT ADVENTURE STOP</p><p>I WILL LET YOU KNOW WHEN WE HAVE ARRIVED IN ATHENS SAFELY STOP</p><p>GIVE NEWT MY LOVE STOP</p><p>EZRA Z FELL </p><p>She smiled and folded up the note. "Christopher," she called. </p><p>"Yes, miss?" Christopher stuck his head in her office. </p><p>She handed him a stack of papers. "Please send these to Gabriel Messenger's lawyers immediately. Cancel all my meetings for the next few weeks. I have some very important business to attend to." </p><p>She had prepared for this several months ago, prepared for the day Ezra would finally leave the good-for-nothing man he called a fiancé. Her preparations made things a lot more efficient and there was no way Gabriel was ever going to set foot near her friend again. </p><p>"One more thing, Christoper," she said. “Prepare the car and contact my fiancé. I need to get to Athens immediately. And if you could send these documents to my mother so she can work on keeping Gabriel’s lawyers busy when I’m gone, that would be great.” </p><p>"Sure thing, miss." Christopher went off to do his tasks while Anathema finished up her tea. This day was shaping up to be a very good day indeed. </p><p>oOoOoOo</p><p>Madam Tracy opened the telegram that had just been delivered to her. She hoped it was from Ezra, it had been so long since she had last spoken to him and she was excited to hear all the salacious details of his little trip. </p><p>MY DEAR MADAM TRACY STOP</p><p>I AM BACK FROM THE DESERT SAFE AND HAVE RATHER FALLEN IN LOVE WITH MR ANTHONY J CROWLEY STOP</p><p>I HAVE BROKEN OFF MY ENGAGEMENT WITH GABRIEL AND CROWLEY AND I ARE HEADING TO CHINA TOGETHER STOP</p><p>I WILL TELL YOU ABOUT IT MORE IN MY NEXT LETTER ONCE WE GET TO ATHENS STOP</p><p>FOR NOW I WISH YOU WELL AND I HOPE YOU ARE LOOKING FORWARD TO MY BOOK STOP</p><p>I THINK IT IS GOING TO BE A HIT IF I DO SAY SO MYSELF STOP</p><p>LOVE ALWAYS</p><p>EZRA Z FELL</p><p>She smiled and folded up the note. If Ezra had broken up with Gabriel, then it wouldn't be long before she received a letter from Anathema full of what she uncovered during her investigation. She couldn't wait to run Gabriel out of this town. He had well and truly overstayed his welcome. She sipped her tea, nibbled on a biscuit, and then went back to the prime minister of France, who had been tied to the bed this whole time. </p><p>oOoOoOo</p><p>
  <em>Hello Gabriel,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hopefully, you are receiving this letter after four o'clock. If you are true to your word and waited one hour for me, then you will know that I am gone. I first went on this little adventure of mine, thinking that this one trip would satiate my desire to travel. It has not. What it has done was shown me that we are incompatible. I rather think you treat me poorly for a person who is supposed to love me. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It's taken me a while to realize this, Gabriel. You are not good for me and I was so disappointed when you showed up in the desert. I felt like all the freedom I had fought to gain was snuffed out the moment you crested that hill. You shouldn't feel that way about people you love. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I don't feel free with you, Gabriel. I feel trapped, mostly by your expectations, which I will never meet. Perhaps I should have done this face to face. Perhaps I am a coward breaking up with you by letter, but this is the only way I could ensure you wouldn't try to reel me back in, keep me with you for just a little bit longer. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I am done, Gabriel. I am done with you, with your lifestyle, and with your exceptions. I am breaking off this engagement and I never want to see you again. Do not try to find me. Do not chase me. You have lost me forever and I will never come back with you. I will never choose you again. Perhaps you don't realize the damage you've done to me. Perhaps you never will. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I hope you one day see the error of your ways and become a great man. But I am not going to wait for that to happen. I have already alerted Anathema Device of this split. She will begin working with your lawyers to ensure a fair separation for our assets gained during our relationship. I will likely never see you again, and that is fine with me. I never want to see you again. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Goodbye, Gabriel. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ezra</em>
</p><p>"What do you mean the telegram service is down!" Gabriel said, shouting at the clerk at the front desk. "Ezra sent some telegrams earlier! I know he did!" </p><p>"Yes sir, but that was almost an hour ago. A lot of things happened in that hour," the clerk said, not looking the least bit apologetic. </p><p>Gabriel was red in the face. He had to get a telegram to his lawyers immediately to keep that witch from doing too much damage. The longer he waited, the more likely she was going to take everything from him. </p><p>"There is nothing that can be done, sir." The clerk said, shaking his head. "If you give me the telegram, I will send it as soon as the lines are back up." </p><p>Gabriel shoved the telegram in his hands. "You better." And stormed back to the room to pack his bags. He needed to get back to Europe immediately, to try and catch Ezra and keep him from taking everything away. </p><p>He didn't see the clerk rip up the telegram and throw it in the trash. And he didn't know that the last train to the ports had taken off just ten minutes ago.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I know it says we only have two chapters left, but I wrote a very long sex scene and then another chapter went way longer than I thought it would so it's likely going to be another four chapters, I need to determine how to break it up.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. Goodbye Egypt</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Alright alright alright. Here is the next chapter! This one is kind of a filler chapter, but I definitely wanted to put something a little lighter since the last few have been such a rollercoaster with Gabriel and that whole mess. I hope you enjoy and have a great weekend!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Despite them having a private train car, Crowley didn't attempt to have sex with Ezra, nor did he attempt when they arrived and Port Said and found a hotel for the few hours they had until the ferry left the next morning. </p><p>Ezra couldn't blame him, the giddy, nervous feeling fluttering in his stomach made it difficult to concentrate. He was also afraid, slightly, that he had underestimated the time between getting Crowley and getting the train, leading to Gabriel catching up with them.</p><p>It was a terrifying thought, that after all of this, his enraged ex-fiancé might just be the end of them. And there was no amulet to wish them back to life this time. Not only that but with all the excitement, he fell asleep almost instantly upon getting to the hotel. Crowley, the dear, seemed to understand his trepidation and kept himself from doing anything other than kiss. And kiss they did!</p><p>Their first kiss in the Sunflower Inn had been everything Ezra had dreamed about and more. It had all the hallmarks of a first-rate romance novel and he well and truly was swept off his feet. Just thinking about Crowley dipping him low and holding him tight made him feel dizzy and his lips tingle in all the right ways. </p><p>And then on the train, good lord, Ezra was surprised either of them managed to be patient enough to not tear off each other's clothes and make love right then and there. Crowley must have the self-control of a saint. </p><p>Once they got to their hotel in Port Said, they were both too tired and worn out to do much of anything besides collapse in another fluffy bed and cuddle together. Even though Crowley was no longer a snake, he did seem to have a knack for winding his way around Ezra's body and squeezing him close. </p><p>Ezra adored it. It made him feel special and loved. He was so glad he had made the choices he had. He was so glad he had been brave enough to let Crowley know about his feelings. If he were to die now, he would die a happy man. </p><p>They had had breakfast in a little cafe near their hotel. Crowley didn't make any snide remarks about his eating habits and even ordered another desert which he promptly passed over to Ezra. </p><p>"I can honestly say, angel, that you are probably the best thing that's ever happened to me." Even though he had on his glasses, Ezra could see the fond look in his eyes. </p><p>"And I think. you're the best thing that's ever happened to me." </p><p>Crowley hummed. "Then I guess we deserve each other. Ready to catch our boat?" </p><p>Ezra nodded, finishing up his tea and grabbing his luggage. That giddy feeling in his gut was starting to return. Fluttering butterflies in his stomach that made him wiggle in anticipation and excitement. He was hoping Crowley was planning on making a move. No one kisses like that without wanting to do more. Though, if he in fact didn't want to do more, then Ezra would still be happy. There were so many things to look forward to with Crowley, after all. </p><p>The boat was lovely and beautifully decorated. It took Ezra's breath away to see all the thought and detail that went into the design of the interior. </p><p>"Marvelous," he breathed, looking at the Art Deco ceiling in their room. "Absolutely marvelous." </p><p>The room was large and spacious, with a huge bed in the middle and a sliding glass door that opened up onto a private balcony. There were cushy arm-chairs and beautiful lamps dotted around the room. </p><p>Crowley whistled. "That is quite the view. I bet it's going to look amazing tonight." </p><p>Ezra nodded. "This is absolutely spectacular. I'm glad I met Abasi. I'm not sure I would have found this if I didn't know him." </p><p>"Yeah, good find there, angel." Crowley leaned against the balcony and stared out at the bustling port. "You know, despite almost dying your first day in Cairo, and despite knowing that wanker, you do have a knack for finding people who can help you." </p><p>"I suppose it's part of my optimism." He chuckled, joining Crowley outside. It was still early, and even though the sun was up, it was much cooler than when they were out in the desert, or even in Cairo. It was probably because of the breeze brought by the Mediterranean, beautiful green-blue waters sparkling below them. </p><p>It was funny. The desert also sparkled, but differently from the water. Two completely different natural bodies, both beautiful in such unique ways. </p><p>He turned to Crowley. "Are you going to miss it? Egypt?' </p><p>Crowley shrugged. "Yeah, there are some things I will miss. I did have a life here, you know. Not a great one, but one nonetheless. But I also never planned to stay here. It sort of just happened." </p><p>"What did you plan to do?" </p><p>Crowley shrugged again. "You know, I can honestly say I've never really thought about it. I thought I was going to be a lawyer, then a businessman, then part of Luc's enterprise. In the end, I don't think I've ever really thought about what I wanted to do and what my skills were. I always did what other people wanted. And when I turned into a snake, it became more about survival than about what I wanted. I wanted to live to see another day, you can’t dream big when simply finding food is a constant worry." </p><p>Ezra nodded, understanding the problems Crowley faced. He was lucky his mother was so understanding and willing to let him explore. It made the transition to independence much easier. He was also lucky to have the time in the desert to think about things. While it wasn’t the most comfortable, he never had to worry about food or danger. There were dangers, true, but he trusted Crowley, and it paid off in the end. </p><p>He went back to the room and pulled out a package he had bought discretely while Crowley was sitting at the port talking with Yussef, Abasi's cousin. </p><p>"Well, it may not be what you want to do, but I'm hoping this can at least give you something to do while I’m writing," he handed the package to Crowley. </p><p>"What is it?" Crowley asked, turning it over in his hands. </p><p>"It's a present. Open it." </p><p>"Angel, you really shouldn't have." </p><p>"No, that's where you're wrong. You've done so much for me, Crowley, and I want to do things for you too. I want you to be happy too. We both deserve it, after all." </p><p>Crowley carefully undid the twine that was holding the brown wrapping in place, almost as if he were afraid of what was underneath. Ezra fidgeted and clasped his hands in front, desperate for Crowley to just open it already so that he could see if he was right or not. </p><p>Finally, the brown paper wrapping fell to the floor and in his hands, Crowley was holding a small paint kit. </p><p>"Oh, Ezra..." he breathed. </p><p>"In your story, you mentioned wanting to paint while on the train to your business meetings. And then you said Luc also got you a paint set, so I thought it was probably a good bet that you'd want something like this, you know, to pass the time while I'm researching and writing and editing and whatnot. Do you like it?"</p><p>"I love it. I absolutely love it!" He swept Ezra up into his arms and kissed him again, so deeply and lovingly, Ezra felt like they were one soul, pieced together at last. </p><p>"Thank you. You are brilliant, you're absolutely brilliant, you know that, right?" </p><p>Ezra smiled. "I had a feeling it would go over well." </p><p>They spent the rest of the day relaxing on the boat as it started it's trek to Athens. Crowley had spent a good amount of the day painting or messing around with the paints. He seemed more interested in mixing colors than actually putting anything on the canvas. But Ezra didn't say anything. It was Crowley's hobby, not his. Besides, he had a book to write. So he spent the day going back through his journals and notes he had taken on the journey. There was so much to put in. So much to say. How was he ever going to fit it into one book? He supposed that was what editors were for. Ms. Young could give him some guidance on what to cut and what to add. What was more important now was getting it all written up into a cohesive story, a starting point so that he could add adventure and romance where it was necessary. </p><p>Reading back over his notes from when he was still in London was strange. He hadn’t looked at anything he had written this entire time, but now it was almost as if he were reading the diary of a completely different person. He laughed at his musings of what this mysterious Mr. Anthony J. Crowley would be like. He smiled at the sketches he did of the amulet, all much larger and ornate than the simple leather necklace they ended up finding. He got a bit teary-eyed when he read through the several pages detailing each camels’ personality, temperament, and what he imagined they were saying during key points. He would miss those smelly, mangy beasts of burden, particularly. Bentley, who seemed the most mature of the three. Freddie, who loved to chew on his hair and listened to Ezra more than he listened to Crowley. And James, a wild-card who was the most headstrong of the three.</p><p>Mostly, he felt proud of himself. He could see his growth from timid house-husband to a confident adventurer. He could track his logic and thought processes. He could see where he had grown so much as a person. </p><p>He imagined such a tale of romance, danger, heroes, and adventure would do quite well once on the shelves. However, if people found his personal growth boring, then he didn’t much care. He knew who he was now, and what he wanted. </p><p>He looked over at Crowley, who had now started to paint on the canvas. It looked as though he were painting the Mediterranean. The colors were beautiful and vibrant, swirling together in broad, quick strokes that would look very abstract up close. </p><p>Ezra smiled and returned to his notes. Today he would focus on his writing. Tonight… well, he’d have to do his best to seduce Crowley tonight. He couldn’t wait.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Originally, the next two chapters were supposed to be one but no joke, the sex scene ended up being close to 5000 words and I haven't even edited it yet so it will likely be longer. I decided to break them up so that I can really focus in on each chapter and the mood I want them to portray. Don't worry, though. Next week we're getting slutty so maybe don't read this with a parent, teacher, boss, or co-worker in the room. I'm planning on living up to that E rating.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0032"><h2>32. Pear Oil and the Two People You Definitely Don't Want to be Sharing a Wall With</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Alright you filthy animals, it's time to go to pound town. I hope these 5200 words of smut are enough to make up for the fact that we didn't hop on the slutty express last week. Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ezra worked, all day, hunched over the desk writing as much as possible. The words flowed easily from his fingers, dancing from his mind onto the page in wonderous prose. He never imagined himself to be a great writer, but at the moment, he didn’t care. This was his story and he was telling it his way. </p><p>He only stopped when Crowley tapped on his shoulder.</p><p>"Angel, I believe I owe you something." His hands and forearms were covered in paint, mainly vibrant blues, whites, and yellows. He looked very dashing like that. Ezra had visions of what could be done with that paint. </p><p>"You don't owe me anything," he said, confused as to what he was talking about. How much more could Crowley owe him after leading him to the amulet, saving his life twice, giving up his only chance to break the curse, and then running off with him to China? If anything, Ezra owed him. </p><p>Crowley shook his head. "Nope, you're wrong. I owe you a stargazing session." He took Ezra's hand and pulled him out of the chair. "You kept asking me to look at the stars, and I never could because of the whole snake thing. Even after you knew, I couldn’t see well at night, so it probably wouldn’t have been much fun. I'm making it up to you now. Mediterranean star-gazing." </p><p>He pulled him over to the balcony. The night air was cool and much like it had been that first night he landed in Cairo. Except, it didn't smell like petrol and asphalt, instead of like salt and water. </p><p>"I did stargaze one night without you," He admitted. </p><p>"The night Hastur and Ligur..." Crowley pursed his lips. </p><p>"Yes, it was beautiful, dear. I wonder if the sky will compare out here?" </p><p>"Oh, I think it will." Crowley motioned up to the sky and Ezra felt his breath catch. It was beautiful, so, so beautiful. What's more, the stars in the sky were reflected in the water below, making him feel like he was up in the sky, surrounded by stars, planets, and galaxies. The only wrinkle in this illusion was the ripples of the water while the boat pushed forward to Athens. </p><p>"Knew you'd like it," Crowley chuckled, looked at Ezra's gobsmacked face. </p><p>"My dear, this is amazing!" </p><p>"Better than the Sahara?" </p><p>"Different than the Sahara." He turned to look at Crowley and put lace their fingers together. "I'm just glad you're here to experience it with me." </p><p>"Wouldn't miss it for the world, angel." His glasses were off now, and Ezra could see his beautiful eyes.</p><p>"I know you're not particularly fond of them, my dear," he said, bringing a hand up to Crowley's cheek, "but I do love your eyes. They remind me so much of desert sand." </p><p>Crowley chucked, but looked away, his cheeks turning red. "Liked being hot that much, did you?" </p><p>"Quite the opposite! But still, you can't argue with natural beauty. China is going to be so much different, I assume than Egypt. I can't wait to make comparisons between the two." </p><p>"Yeah, I'm excited to see it. I've only ever seen Northern Europe and Egypt. It'll be amazing to see how different the world is." He was back to looking at Ezra, a soft smile on his face. "I'm glad you're with me, Ezra. I'm glad you stumbled into my life and I'm glad I took a chance on you."</p><p>Now it was Ezra's turn to blush. "I'm glad I met you too, my dear. Even if I had found another, decent guide, I don't think anyone would be able to compete with you." </p><p>"Flatterer," Crowley said, wrapping his arms around Ezra and hugging him close. </p><p>They stayed like that for a few moments, wrapped up in each other, close enough to feel the other's heartbeat, to feel the other's breath in and out. He felt at peace with the world, excited for what lay ahead, grateful for what he left behind. The stars and the moon shined down on him and Crowley, and he liked to think that his mother was up there, also at peace and proud of all he had done. </p><p>Ezra could stay here forever, but he didn't want to. Weeks of denying his attraction to Crowley were starting to take their toll. Crowley had almost kissed him in the desert. And he had kissed him in the hotel and then again on the train. He wanted Ezra, and Ezra desperately wanted him back. He just couldn't figure out how to make the transition from kissing and hugging to... sex. </p><p>"Thinking about something?" Crowley's voice was low in his ear, almost husky. </p><p>Ezra swallowed. "Thinking about all the times you've kissed me or almost kissed me." He admitted. He didn't want to deny himself any longer. He wanted something, he should be able to go after it, like an adult. Besides, unless he asked, he would never truly be sure of what Crowley wanted. </p><p>"I haven't kissed you enough if you can think of all the times I've done it." </p><p>"My dear, we've only been together for less than two days. Besides, I've recorded all of it, so I'll always be able to remember what you've done when." </p><p>"Recording it for your readers, or yourself?" Crowley didn't sound upset at the fact that this might be going in the book. In fact, he sounded positively enthralled with the idea. </p><p>"Who says this book isn't largely going to be for me?" Ezra said, feeling bolder and braver as the conversation wore on. Crowley was not Gabriel. Crowley was attracted to him and wanted to be with him because he liked him. He was not going to put Ezra down or make him feel a fool for wanting to be intimate. </p><p>"Oh, so this whole writing thing is just a cover-up? Something to give you money while you live out your fantasies?" He was pressed up against him now, tightly holding him in his arms. </p><p>Ezra could feel his hard length, pressing against his thigh. "Goodness," he said. "You certainly are excited." </p><p>"I've been dreaming about you since I first laid eyes on you. You're like a sinful dessert, all wrapped up in bowties and thighs that could kill a man." Crowley admitted. </p><p>"I must confess, I've been dreaming about you as well," Ezra said, blushing again. </p><p>"Really? Naughty angel. Tell me, what's in these dreams of yours?" </p><p>"Well, you, obviously." </p><p>"And what am I doing?" </p><p>He swallowed. His heart was pounding now. He was nervous, yes, but not because he was afraid of Crowley and what he might do or say. No, these were nerves of excitement, the nerves you got at the top of a Ferris wheel or sledding down a snowy hill. These were nerves that lit a fire in your belly and made you want to chase them, expand them, fuel them with action. </p><p>"Wouldn't you like to know," he said, deciding to tease a bit. </p><p>Crowley groaned and pulled back. "Angel, you can't come in here, looking like sex with legs, tell me you've been having dreams, and then not tell me what's going on in them?" </p><p>Ezra smiled at him. "Perhaps I don't want you to know. Perhaps I just want to know what you're like in real life. Dreams can only go so far." He grabbed Crowley's hand and held it to his heart, hoping Crowley felt it pounding in his chest. "I don't want dream you, I want real you. Maybe later, I'll tell you more specifically what went on. But for now, I just want you, Crowley, all of you in whatever form you're in." </p><p>Crowley turned his head to the side, cheeks still burning red. "Alright. If you're sure. I should warn you, it's been a while. Can't really have sex with a human while you're a snake and all that." </p><p>"I'm sure someone out there would be into it." </p><p>Crowley made a face that made Ezra laugh. </p><p>"Besides, it's been a while for me too. And we can always stop if we get uncomfortable." </p><p>Crowley grinned and nodded, his face lighting up as he took Ezra once more into his arms, and stared down at him, a soft, yearning look in his eyes. </p><p>"I'm with you, angel. I want you like I've never wanted anyone before." </p><p>"Me too, Crowley. And really, you should take up writing. The poetry that comes out of your mouth sometimes is remarkable." </p><p>Crowley leaned down, their lips barely brushing. "That's because I stole it all from Shakespeare." </p><p>Before Ezra could protest, Crowley pressed their lips together, gently but firmly. Ezra's eyes fluttered closed and he angled his head just a tiny bit to fit more comfortably against Crowley's lips. He tasted like strong, black coffee and the spiced cake he had had earlier for dinner, with just a hint of red wine still on his lips. </p><p>His tongue, still a bit more on the serpentine side of things, slipped into Ezra's mouth, getting them even closer, and even more entangled in one another.</p><p>How was it that Crowley managed to enchant him so? He felt like he were in a pleasant haze, surrounded by soft scents and Crowley's touch. </p><p>Crowley was firm but gentle, his hands skating up and down Ezra's sides as he shifted closer. Ezra sighed and sank into him even more, bliss taking over his body. If this was what it was like to kiss Crowley, he couldn't wait for them to go all the way. </p><p>He smoothed his hands up Crowley's chest and wrapped his arms around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. It was rough, coarse, slightly wavy, and choppy under Ezra's fingers. </p><p>Crowley's arms slipped around his waist and his hands landed right on his are, gripping it tightly and pulling him closer. </p><p>"Wanted to touch you since I saw you," Crowley growled against his lips. "That day at the oasis was hell for me, angel." </p><p>"Wasn't a walk in the park for me either," Ezra murmured, kissing along Crowley's jaw, his lips catching ever so slightly on the stubble. </p><p>"I noticed. That blush of yours should be illegal," Crowley said, his voice choked by a moan as Ezra sucked a particularly enthusiastic mark on his collar bone. </p><p>"You're talking too much," he said. </p><p>"You're wearing too much." </p><p>"Then do something about it." </p><p>Crowley laughed. "Don't worry, angle, I will." </p><p>Before Ezra had a chance to say something cheeky back, Crowley swept him up into his arms and carried him over to the bed. "Crowley!" He giggled as he bounced ever so slightly on the bed. "Careful, you're going to hurt yourself." </p><p>"Trust me, angel. I can toss you around like you're nothing." Crowley's hands were on his shirt now, tugging it off and revealing all of Ezra's soft curves and white skin. He had tanned significantly since being out in the sun, but even with the tan he still was more or less a shade of blinding white. </p><p>He didn't think it was very fair for him to get undressed while Crowley was still mostly covered, so he took his chance to pull Crowley's shirt over his head. The two of them began scrambling with one another, trying to pull off belts and shoes and pants in all the wrong order, leading to more laughing as they finally, completely disrobed and landed back on the bed in a heap. </p><p>They were laying side by side, staring into each other's eyes. Ezra stroked Crowley's cheek, relishing the warmth, the stubble, the sharp angles of his cheekbones. </p><p>Crowley was grinning from ear to ear, his bright yellow eyes shining with such happy emotions, it made Ezra glow with pride. </p><p>"I think I love you," Crowley said. </p><p>"You think?" </p><p>"I've never been in love before, so I can't say that's what I'm feeling, but I don't think there's another word to describe it." </p><p>Ezra smiled, "I think I love you too." </p><p>Crowley leaned forward and kissed Ezra again, softly and sweetly. His eyes fluttered closed as Crowley pulled him closer, so they were pressed from head to toe. He could feel Crowley's member, already hard and leaking, pressing against his hip. He wanted to touch it. He wanted to taste it. </p><p>Reaching down, he took it in his hand and stroked it. </p><p>"Fuck," Crowley hissed, pressing his face into Ezra's shoulder and gripping him even tighter.</p><p>"I can touch you now," he said, his voice raspy with desire. "It's allowed now." </p><p>Crowley's lips trailed up his shoulder, lingered on his neck for a beat, before tracing the shell of his ear. "Yeah. It's allowed now, angel. It's all allowed now." </p><p>Ezra smiled and continued to stroke lazily, languidly, enjoying every twitch of his member, the heat radiating from Crowley's body, the sweat that cooled them in the night air. </p><p>Crowley gasped and rocked into his hand, pulling him closer and letting his hands trail down his back, resting just at the top of his bottom. He massaged his fingers into the flesh, his teeth moving back to Ezra's neck and attacking with fervor. There would be marks tomorrow. God, Ezra hoped there would be marks tomorrow. </p><p>He let out a gasp as Crowley's fingers slipped into him. "Lube," he gasped, "we need lube." </p><p>"I think there's some oil on the bedside table," Ezra said. "I don't want to let you go, though." </p><p>Crowley chuckled, his voice rich and dark. It sent shivers up his spine. "Trust me, angel, you're going to want to let me get it." </p><p>He whined as Crowley pushed back and got up from the bed, rummaging around, trying to find something they could use to ease things along. While Ezra wanted him here in bed, writhing about in pleasure, it was still nice to see his naked body wandering around the room. Crowley's cock was hard and imposing, the lean lines of his body and the freckles on his skin made designs across his back. There were still a few patches of scales on him, but Ezra didn't mind. He loved Crowley for all his flaws, just like he hoped Crowley loved him. </p><p>Finally, after several minutes of rummaging through suitcases and cursing, Crowley let out a triumphant cry. "Says it's pear flavored," he said, examining the body. </p><p>"I like pears," Ezra said. Maybe that was something they could do later, sex with food. Tracy had told him a particularly titillating story about melted chocolate and how it might be used to create an arousing experience. </p><p>Crowley climbed back into bed and before he could protest, Ezra grabbed the bottle and poured some on his cock, which had flagged a bit during the search for lube. </p><p>"What are you doing?" Crowley asked. </p><p>"Something I've wanted to do for a while," Ezra said before putting the tip in his mouth and sucking. </p><p>"Fuck!" Crowley's hands flew to his head and gripped his hair, not pushing him down or pulling him away, just resting there. </p><p>He pulled up and looked up at Crowley in a way that he hoped was coy. "We'll get to that in a moment, dear. I'm trying to prepare you." </p><p>He lowered his head back down. </p><p>"That's what I was going to do with you," Crowley grumbled but moaned when Ezra continued his work on his member. </p><p>The lube did taste like pears. It was sweet and sugary. That mixed with Crowley's pre-come, it was a delectable mixture of salty and sweet. It made Ezra want to have more. Perhaps after they were done with the first round, he could figure out a way to utilize more food in the next round. He did always want to eat sushi off the naked body of a person as handsome as Crowley. </p><p>Crowley, the dear, was doing his best not to move his hips too much. His hands were still gripping Ezra's hair, not pushing or pulling, simply letting him take the lead as he worked at Crowley's cock, sometimes swallowing as much as he could, other times content with simply licking it. It was heavy in his mouth, stretching his lips wide as he worked to figure out the exact right amount of sucking and licking that would get Crowley off. </p><p>"Fuck, fuck you're perfect," Crowley moaned, his hips starting to jerk more with each passing second. </p><p>Ezra blushed, heat flaring up in his body. He never felt perfect. And in many ways, he wasn't, but the fact that Crowley thought he was perfect enough for him made him preen. He was going to make sure Crowley understood just how much Ezra wanted him, wanted to be with him, wanted to please him, wanted to be equals with him. He was so glad Crowley felt the same way. </p><p>"Angel," Crowley rasped, "Angel, stop. I'm not going to last much longer." </p><p>Ezra pulled off his now completely hard cock again with a pop. "Maybe I don't want you to last much longer." He grinned at Crowley. </p><p>"You can suck me dry later. Right now, I want you. Please, let me have you." He was smiling down at him, one hand still in his hair, stroking his cheek. He looked at him like he was the most precious thing in the world. </p><p>Ezra smiled back at him. "As you wish, my dear. But mark my words, I will get my mouth on you again soon." </p><p>"Anything you want, angel," Crowley said. "On your hands and knees, I want to prepare you." </p><p>Ezra shivered at the tone of Crowley's voice. So commanding, so powerful. He hoped he got to hear more of it. He obeyed, crawling up the bed and resting on the pillows. He heard Crowley shuffling around and closed his eyes, anticipation building in his gut. </p><p>"You'll tell me if you don't like anything?" Crowley's breath was hot against his ear and the hairs on his entire body stood with excitement. </p><p>"Of course, my dear. I trust you." He said. And he did. He trusted Crowley to be just the right amount of gentle and rough. He trusted Crowley to respect Ezra's needs and wishes. He trusted Crowley with his life. </p><p>He felt Crowley's fingers slip in between his cheeks, just teasing at his entrance. Ezra moaned and pushed back. </p><p>"Don't take too long. You said you wanted to prepare me," he gasped as one long, elegant finger caught on the rim. </p><p>"Demanding, aren't we?"</p><p>"Only for you." </p><p>Crowley laughed and slipped a digit into his body. Ezra jerked at the contact, tensing up. </p><p>"It's alright, just relax," Crowley said, running his free hand up Ezra's back, massaging his neck and shoulders while whispering sweet nothings into his ear. </p><p>With a deep breath, he felt his muscles unclench, allowing Crowley's fingers to move freely. </p><p>Crowley had exceptionally wonderful fingers. They were long, thin, and reminded him very much of a musician’s fingers. Indeed, with just his hand alone, Crowley was playing him like a violin, seeming to know which spots to touch, linger, brush up against, and focus on. The fingers inside him were sliding in and out, scissoring him open to prepare him for what was next to come. It was delicious. </p><p>"Crowley," he moaned, biting the pillow as Crowley's lips returned to his neck, sucking more marks onto the soft, pale flesh. Each nip sent shivers down his spine as his body reacted to the pleasure and pain of it all. </p><p>"Crowley!" He was having trouble thinking of much else to say, much else to do. Instead, he could only rock his hips back in instinct, chasing Crowley's fingers, trying to feel him deeper. He wanted Crowley inside of him. He wanted to be as close to him as humanly possible. He needed him and he needed him now. The fingers weren’t nearly enough. They were doing their job of stretching him, sure, but he wanted to feel full, feel the drag of a cock in his body, hitting him in all the right places. </p><p>"Please," he managed to gasp. "Please, I'm ready." </p><p>"Yeah?" Crowley said, pulling back for just a minute. "You sure?" </p><p>He nodded, unable to say much else. His heart was pounding a mile a minute and he was gasping from exertion. Already his legs felt like jelly, shaking and weak. </p><p>"Alright. Fuck, give me a second," Crowley said, pulling back from him once more. </p><p>Ezra opened his eyes to see Crowley pouring more lube on his cock. "It does taste like pears, you know." </p><p>He grinned, a  glint of mischief in his eyes. "Does it now?" </p><p>Ezra nodded and held out his finger. Crowley poured some onto it. "Taste it," He said, holding the digit up to Crowley's mouth. </p><p>He obliged, sucking it, swirling his tongue around it. </p><p>Ezra's eyes rolled back in his head and he reached down for his own neglected cock, which had since leaked all over the bedsheets. </p><p>Crowley popped the finger out of his mouth. "I think you taste better."</p><p>Ezra blushed. He felt so loved it hurt. He fought the urge to cover himself up, say something flippant and awful about himself. Crowley (and Crowley's body) had made it painfully clear that he wanted Ezra. He desired him. He loved his roundness, his softness, his body, and his mind. The least Ezra could do was try not to bring down the mood with self-deprecation. </p><p>Crowley put a hand on his cheek. "Are you alright?" </p><p>He blinked and smiled at him. "Yes, I'm fine." </p><p>Crowley didn't seem convinced. "You can tell me, you know. You can tell me if it's too much too soon. You did just get out of a relationship. Hell, you just broke off your engagement, you're allowed to take some time." </p><p>Ezra's doubts, whatever of them were left in his mind, vanished. He smiled at Crowley and cradled his hand. "My dear, I believe I've been out of a relationship for the better part of two months now. I was surprised by Gabriel's appearance, I have to admit. And it was a momentary lapse in all the strength and courage that I previously built up. I guess I just fell back into old habits." </p><p>Crowley was silent for several minutes before sighing. "I can't blame you, Ezra. He was horrible. I'm glad you left him, even if you ran off without me, that was all I ever wanted for you, to be free." </p><p>"And now I am, we both are. So, shall we continue?" </p><p>Crowley nodded. "I am at your service." </p><p>He laid Ezra down on the bed with a gentleness he had come to expect. Those calloused hands did feel marvelous against his body, the rough skin catching ever so often on his own flesh, leaving a tingling sensation behind as Crowley dragged his hands up and down. His lips seemed to be everywhere on him, sucking more marks on his chest, his stomach, his thighs, the inner portion of his elbow. Sometimes they were light, ticklish things, other times they were sharp and biting, the pain and pleasure mixing so beautifully. </p><p>Ezra let himself be taken by this wild and mysterious man, this man who had haunted his dreams for so long, this man that invaded his nights and his mind with hushed promises and tender kisses. He let Crowley guide him back onto the bed, his knees nudging his legs, urging him to spread wider. </p><p>He let Crowley kiss him with such passion that he had never felt before. Crowley's tongue plundering his mouth, searching out his own and letting their tastes combine to create the most delicious combination Ezra had ever had. </p><p>Crowley nibbled on his lips, his hands still stroking every bit of him he could reach. "You're so warm." He whispered against kiss-bites lips. "I remember the first night I slept next to you. It was so warm." </p><p>"Mmm, if you need me to be a personal warmer for you, then I will be happy to oblige." </p><p>"Only if you ravish you," Crowley said, his voice husky, deep, dark. </p><p>"It's a deal," Ezra said. </p><p>Crowley sat back up to pour more lube on his still-hard erection. Ezra propped himself up on his pillows and watched in fascination as Crowley stroked the appendage a few times until it was shiny and slick with the sweet pear oil they had found. </p><p>"Relax, angel, tell me if anything hurts," he said, shifting Ezra so they were lined up. </p><p>"Of course, my dear." He leaned back on the pillows and closed his eyes, letting his other senses take over. </p><p>He felt the head of Crowley's cock nudge against his entrance, and Crowley's fingers helping to open him up and guide himself in. He was ever-so slow, almost painstaking as he sank in centimeter by centimeter. </p><p>Ezra let out a moan as he was filled so thoroughly. It was a delicious sort of a stretch, something that made him so satisfied. He wiggled a bit, getting used to the sensation of finally being intimately connected with another person. </p><p>"Fuck," Crowley hissed, his hands gripping his hips in a way that would leave bruises tomorrow. Ezra couldn't wait to count all the marks on his body. </p><p>"Alright, my dear?" he asked, opening his eyes and seeing Crowley hunched over him, head hung and breathing heavily. </p><p>"I should be asking you that. Feel alright?" </p><p>He put a hand on his cheek and felt his sticky sweat. "I'm fine. Please move, I'm getting a little impatient with this dance of ours." </p><p>Crowley laughed, sounding just as wrecked as Ezra felt. "I'm not doing good enough if you can still talk." </p><p>"Then do something about it," he challenged. </p><p>Crowley leaned forward, his arms bracketing Ezra's head caused his legs to involuntarily wrap around Crowley's waist. The result pushed him in ever so slightly and he moaned. </p><p>"Please, Crowley, please my love, I can't take much more of this teasing. Please ravish me, wreck me, make me forget my name." </p><p>"As you wish." </p><p>That was the last thing Crowley said to him before starting to move. He was slow at first, dragging his cock in and out of Ezra's body at an anguishing pace, letting him feel each centimeter as it left and then re-entered. Each time getting closer and closer to that spot that caused him to see stars. The torture of feeling Crowley tease him like this made everything feel more heightened, more pleasurable. </p><p>It didn't take long for Crowley to start to lose his control, however. Soon, he was pounding Ezra into the mattress. The bed was slamming against the wall and for a brief moment, Ezra thought about how much their neighbors must hate them. </p><p>Then Crowley slammed into him, hitting that spot right on and stars did appear. He threw back his head and cried out, gripping Crowley's shoulders and pulling him down so they were flush together, his legs still tightly wrapped around his body so that his love could stay close. He could hear Crowley breathing heavily, occasionally moaning as his hips slapped against Ezra’s. He could hear the bed frame squeaking and the backboard slamming against the back wall. He felt Crowley’s cock slamming into him over and over and over again.</p><p>Crowley wrapped his arms around Ezra and pulled him into his hips, thrusting his cock with such wild abandon. He could hear the sounds of their bodies slapping together. He could smell the unmistakable mixture of sweat, sex, and pear oil in the room. He could taste the wine he had before and Crowley's sweat. </p><p>He was screaming now, pleasure like nothing he had ever felt rapidly overtaking his mind as he struggled to have a coherent thought. Crowley didn't sound much better, grunting and moaning in his ear as he continued to fuck him into the mattress, his hips never stopping their speed, his body winding around him like a snake, clutching him close. </p><p>His lips were on the shell of his ear, that serpentine tongue tracing it and making his eyes roll back in his head. All he could do was grip Crowley's shoulders and hold him close, desperate for some purchase that would prove to him that this was real, that he wasn't dreaming once more. </p><p>His cock was trapped between their bodies, rubbing against the hard planes of Crowley's stomach. It felt divine, but he needed more. He needed so much more. </p><p>As if he read his mind, Crowley reached between them and began stroking Ezra. He wasn't sure how he managed to sneak his hand down there, they were pressed so tightly together it became impossible to tell where one ended and the other began, but with Crowley's expert thrusting and his artist's hand, it didn't take long for Ezra to tumble over the edge. </p><p>He threw his head back and let his orgasm wash over in waves. Crowley was still moving, still desperately chasing his pleasure, but he didn't last much longer, collapsing onto him as his body continued to spasm with his release. </p><p>They stayed there for what felt like days, each panting as the sweat cooled their bodies. </p><p>Crowley was the first to pull away and Ezra let out a whine. "I'm getting something to clean us up, angel. Unless you want to stain the sheets?" He kissed his brow and got out of bed. </p><p>Well, Ezra couldn't argue with that. These were Egyptian cotton after all. </p><p>After Crowley had cleaned them up, he pulled the blankets over them and curled around Ezra, still kissing his face, neck, shoulders, really anywhere he could reach. </p><p>"Was it as good as your dreams?" He asked, his voice husky from all the noise he had made during sex. </p><p>"Mmm, better."</p><p>"Better?" He didn't sound surprised, the cheeky bastard.</p><p>"It's nice that you're actually here and not just air, or my fingers." </p><p>He felt Crowley grin against his skin. "Naughty angel, have you masturbated to thoughts of me? I'm flattered." </p><p>Ezra huffed and blindly swatted behind him until he hit what felt like Crowley's nose. "Stop kissing me and start cuddling, you fiend. I'm tired." </p><p>"So, we're only doing one round?" Crowley asked though he didn't sound too heartbroken. </p><p>"Give me a break, I've been walking out in the desert for two months. And tomorrow I'm going to be sore. You're not small." </p><p>"You know how to flatter a man," he said but did as he was told and laid down wrapping his arms tightly around Ezra. "So, now that we've done it once, mind telling me about some of those dreams of yours? Some of those fantasies?" </p><p>Ezra blushed and bit his lip. "Well, I did just think of one..." </p><p>"Oh?" </p><p>"You left so many marks on me... and the paint isn't toxic..." </p><p>"You want me to paint on all the marks I left on you tonight?" Crowley asked. He didn't sound like he hated the idea, but he did sound confused by it. </p><p>"Or connect them into a picture, like what they do with constellations." He explained. "You know, take random stars and turn them into a picture and a story. You can be the star-maker, and I'll be the storyteller. I think it fits." </p><p>Crowley kissed his cheek, reached over, and turned off the lamp. "Tomorrow, angel. We'll do it tomorrow." </p><p>Ezra smiled and kissed his knuckles, closing his eyes and sinking into a sweet and blissful sleep. He still didn't know if Crowley would be with him forever, or what the future held, but he felt more confident, more ready for the uncertainty. He was excited for tomorrow and every day after.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next week, a familiar face will return... I wonder what will happen?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0033"><h2>33. Let's Ruin Your Ex-Fiance!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So I tried to embed an image into this one, if it doesn't work, there'll be a link to my Tumblr below where the image will also be. If no one can see it, let me know and I'll just type it in.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next three days on the ferry were magnificent. Ezra was sore and could barely walk, but it had all been worth it for perhaps some of the most mind-blowing sex of his life. Granted, he didn't have a lot to compare it to, but he still couldn't imagine it getting any better than it did. And it did get better. With each round, he and Crowley learned more about each other, what they liked, what they didn't like, what was best left in fantasy, and what was amazing when played out in reality. </p><p>Crowley yawned and draped an arm over Ezra's shoulders as they ate breakfast on the patio of their room one last time. The boat was docked in Athens and they could see the sprawling city before their eyes. </p><p>"Finally satisfied, angel?" he asked, sipping a black coffee. </p><p>"Am I satisfied?" Ezra huffed. "My dear, you've barely let me leave the room. Every time you see one inch of skin, you pounce on me like a tiger." </p><p>He wasn't complaining. He loved getting dressed only to be dragged back to the bed and thoroughly debauched for the third time in two hours. The cuddling afterward was always a highlight.</p><p>Crowley chuckled and leaned close. "Are you saying you want me to stop having sex with the most beautiful creature to walk the earth?" He sucked Ezra's earlobe into his mouth and nibbled. </p><p>He shivered and squeezed his legs together. Good lord, he'd never get anything done if this was how Crowley was going to act every single day. </p><p>"Not now, you fiend. We need to disembark. And I do want to look around Athens for a bit. Eat a biscuit if you want something to nibble on." </p><p>Crowley let go of his ear and was now nosing his neck, kissing it and leaving even more marks. “I don’t want to nibble on a biscuit. Not when something so delectable is sitting right beside me.”</p><p>"Besides," Ezra said, his voice at a much higher pitch. "I must get this draft finished and sent off to Ms. Young if I'm ever to be published within the year. I have several people who are eagerly awaiting my work, you know." </p><p>Crowley chuckled and finally stopped. "I know, angel. I want to look around Athens too. I wonder how different it'll be from Cairo."</p><p>"I imagine much different, my dear." He was glad Crowley didn't remove his arm. He liked being tucked against him. He liked touching him (innocently). He liked that he was able to show affection and that he was able to receive affection too easily and readily. </p><p>"Only one way to find out." Crowley slipped out of his chair and held his hand out for Ezra to take. "Let's find a hotel for a few days so you can work on your book and figure out where exactly we're going to go next." </p><p>"That sounds wonderful, my dear." Ezra slipped his hand in Crowley's and stood. </p><p>He was sad to leave the boat. Granted, they hadn't been in Egypt for the better part of three days. They were now back in Europe, miles from Africa. And yet, the boat was the last little piece of the journey, the last little bit of concrete proof of what happened. Once he stepped off the boat, he was leaving Egypt behind. He was leaving his adventure behind. </p><p>No, that wasn't true. He was leaving his first adventure behind. He had learned so much and grown so much in his time in Egypt. He was a different person now than he was when he left London a lifetime ago. But that wasn't a bad thing. There was a bittersweetness about leaving the boat. He would never get back his first adventure, but with so much more to experience, he was ready to leave. </p><p>"Ezra!" </p><p>He furrowed his brow and looked up to see Anathema of all people sprinting straight for him. He only had time to brace himself before she launched herself at him with a bone-crushing hug. </p><p>"I was so worried!" She said, squeezing him tightly. </p><p>"What are you doing here?" He asked. </p><p>"Looking for you!" </p><p>"Did you not get my message? You must have, how else would you know to come here." He said. He was glad to see his friend after so long. He had so much to tell him and a letter just wouldn't suffice. Still, he was confused. </p><p>"Hello, Ezra, nice to see you again," Newt said, ambling up after Anathema. </p><p>"You’re here too?" Ezra asked. </p><p>"Well, Ana didn't want to take a train, she was worried it'd take too long. So I offered to fly her down here." </p><p>Ezra furrowed his brow. "What exactly do you do that allows you to just fly around Europe all the time?" </p><p>"I deliver things. There's always something that needs to be delivered quickly to somewhere you can't easily drive to." He turned and looked at Crowley. "Hello, I'm Newton Pulsifer." </p><p>"Er, Anthony Crowley." Crowley shook his hand, looking rather uncomfortable by the whole situation. Granted, the last person from Ezra's life that he met happened to be his (ex) Fiancé, so Ezra couldn't be too offended. </p><p>"Why does that name sound familiar?" Anathema muttered. She waved the thought away before Crowley had time to explain. "It doesn't matter. We need to talk, about Gabriel." </p><p>Ezra's heart dropped. Anathema had never liked the man, so surely she wasn't planning on trying to convince him to get back together. </p><p>"Can we find a hotel first? Drop off our bags?" Crowley asked, shaking the suitcase with their meager belongings inside. "Ezra has about fifty pounds of notebooks and books in this thing and it feels like my arm's about to fall off." </p><p>Anathema nodded. "Yes, I'll explain on the way. I've gotten the majority of your assets secured from Gabriel. Thankfully, because he was never able to get much in writing, it all still belongs to you. I had the staff at the home go through and pick out anything that wasn't yours. It wasn't much and it's all currently sitting on the lawn waiting for him to pick it up whenever he gets back to London." </p><p>"Thank you, I’m glad you worked so fast." He turned to Crowley. "That was my mother's home. She left it to me after her death. I couldn't imagine parting with it or my books." </p><p>Crowley took his hand and squeezed it. "I know." </p><p>"But what else is so important that you rushed to Athens to meet me?" </p><p>Anathema swallowed and patted a briefcase she had been carrying. "It's about Gabriel himself. Tracy and I have been doing some investigations on him for a while. I don't know if you know or noticed, Ezra, but he was with you mostly for your money. He didn't have much and running for office takes a lot of money." </p><p>Ezra nodded. He had always known, somewhere deep inside that Gabriel's love for him was mainly transactional, but he had hoped that their relationship had transformed in the years he knew him. He had hoped that eventually, Gabriel would see him as more than just someone to bankroll his endeavors.</p><p>"His lawyers have also been very aggressive in trying to secure as many of your assets as possible. That's one of the reasons, I believe, he didn't want to get married yet. You hadn't given him enough control over your estate. He needed security and power to make sure he got as much as possible when he divorced you." </p><p>"Good lord! Was he planning on divorcing me? We hadn't even set a date for the wedding. I imagine, you were the reason he didn't get as much as he wanted, my dear." he asked, his heart slowly sinking. He knew he knew, that Gabriel wasn't a good person. He knew he was using him. He still couldn't help the heartbreak that crashed into him. Somewhere, at some point, he loved Gabriel. He could still list the nice things he did for him. </p><p>He bought him a rare and expensive first edition of his favorite book. He helped commission a painting of Ezra's late mother. He went with him every year on her birthday to lay flowers on her grave. How could a man who did such nice and thoughtful things turn out to be such a monster? </p><p>"I'm sorry, Ezra. I'm glad you left him, though." </p><p>He sighed and nodded. They were at the hotel now, and Crowley had graciously taken it upon himself to check them in. </p><p>"I imagine you didn't rush to Athens to tell me all of this. I've already left him, my dear. If you're worried about me going back to him, don't worry. I won't." He glanced over at Crowley and smiled. </p><p>Anathema followed his gaze. She didn't smile, she was instead sizing up Crowley, probably reading his aura to get a feel for how good of a person he was. He hoped she wouldn't be too harsh on him. </p><p>"Yes, you're right. I'll tell you up in the hotel room. It's kind of private." </p><p>Ezra nodded and after Crowley had gotten the key, they all made their way up to the room. It was also a very lovely room, this time draped in soft white with a beautiful view of the blue sea out their window. </p><p>"Alright, what do you have to say about Gabriel?" Ezra asked. </p><p>Anathema nodded and opened up her briefcase. "Well, a lot. As I said, we've been investigating him for a while."</p><p>"Is it because you didn't like him?" Ezra asked. </p><p>She shook her head. "No, I was doing your taxes one year and asked his lawyers for the expense report. I guess someone somewhere forgot to complete their 'reports' because I noticed a discrepancy. I didn't want them to catch onto what I had found, so I stayed quiet, but I started looking into his business." </p><p>She pulled out several papers, all of which looked like lagers and tax reports. "It took a while, but I finally figured out how he's been getting money that doesn't come from you. Embezzlement. He's been embezzling funds and faking campaign donations for years." </p><p>Ezra picked up a paper and looked over it. It was all in English, he could understand all the words on the page. But it was still like reading a foreign language. </p><p>"Embezzling?" He asked, putting the paper down and looking at Anathema. Yes, Gabriel was an awful fiancé, but he couldn't imagine doing anything this... illegal. </p><p>Crowley picked up the paper as well and looked over it. "Wow, his lawyers are good if they managed to hide all of this." </p><p>Anathema's brow furrowed. </p><p>"And how do you know so much about tax law?" </p><p>"I used to be a lawyer," Crowley said flippantly, picking up another paper and looking it over.<br/>
Anathema winced. "I would say that's a bad sign, but I'm also a lawyer so I'm going to trust you aren't slimy." </p><p>Crowley snorted. "Oh, I'm slimy alright. So slimy I pissed off my dad and ran away to Egypt so that I would never have to practice law again. It's been a few years, but I still remember things like this coming up all the time."</p><p>As much as Ezra would have liked Anathema and Crowley to chat a bit more and get to know one another, he also needed answers. His head was spinning and he once again felt like his feet weren't fully on the ground. Even after he had left Gabriel, the man still had some sort of a hold on him. </p><p>"I'm sorry, my dear, he's been embezzling?" He needed to sit down. It was hot and stuffy in here. He loosened his bowtie and collapsed on a chair. Crowley was beside him in an instant with a cool glass of water. </p><p>"I'm sorry, Ezra. I know this is a shock."</p><p>"All this time that I've been with him and he's been stealing from other people!" </p><p>Anathema patted his hand. "That's not all, Ezra." </p><p>"What else could there possibly be!" He shrieked, still shaking on the chair. </p><p>Anathema bit her lip and pulled out some more pictures. "Look, I haven't told anyone about this yet. Ms. Tracy knows I'm looking into him. I had planned to do a double whammy, and expose him in the Tadfield Times in conjunction with bringing the case before Parliament to get him stripped of his title, but I wanted to let you know that when I do this, things are going to come out about him, a lot of things." </p><p>"Just tell me, let's get this over with," Ezra said. He felt tired, weary once more. God, he hated Gabriel. </p><p>Anathema put some pictures down. They were grainy photos, but Ezra knew Gabriel was in them. He was in them with other people. These weren't pleasant business dinners, these were intimate affairs. Suddenly, the weariness was gone. Anger rose in his throat and he felt like punching a wall. </p><p>"Angel," Crowley's voice was calm and gentle. He was probably trying to soothe Ezra, make him feel better about himself. </p><p>"That fucking bastard!" He shouted. Anathema looked at him with shock and horror. Ezra had rarely cursed and so for him to say such horrid words together was probably the weirdest thing she had ever experienced. </p><p>"He spent years accusing me of cheating when he was going around behind my back sleeping with half of London! Is this the Prime Minister's husband?" He asked, pointing to a particularly salacious picture that would make any self-respecting British person blush.</p><p>"Um, yes," Anathema said. </p><p>"That bastard! He congratulated me on our engagement!" </p><p>Anathema smiled. "If I bring this to Parliament and to the Tadfield Times, it is all going to come out. Are you okay with this? It could ruin your reputation." </p><p>Ezra scoffed. "I don't care. I'll be in China and then Scotland and then somewhere else. Ruin him, Anathema. I put up with his insults and his accusations for years. I gave everything to him and cut off pieces of myself to be more what he wanted. And he couldn't even give me the courtesy of being faithful! Destroy his life. You're a lawyer, I'm sure you can figure out how." </p><p>He shoved the offending pictures back at her, still fuming. A part of him hated that he still cared for Gabriel. A part of him hated that he didn't see all the signs sooner. And a part of him was glad he ran away to Egypt. Who knew how much longer he would have stayed with this deplorable criminal before he finally left? Still, he was exhausted and a bit mad that even after all that work to leave Gabriel, he still wasn't entirely free of him yet. </p><p>"I trust that you will make it so I am not implicated?" Ezra said. </p><p>"Oh, trust me, as soon as I knew what was going on, I did everything in my power to make you look so innocent, even the devil himself couldn't tempt you." </p><p>"Good." </p><p>"Say, lawyer girl," Crowley said. "You're here without a team of lawyers, I'm a bit rusty, but I'd love to be a part of the team that helps bring that wanker down. What do you say? Team up while we're in Athens? Ezra's got to finish his first draft." </p><p>"Oh, no, dear, I couldn't possibly ask you to do such a thing," Ezra said. </p><p>Crowley shrugged. "I didn't get to punch him in the desert, so I'll settle for a metaphorical punch. It's all good, angel. Even though I didn't want to be a lawyer, there were still some parts that I liked, mainly taking a person's bad deeds and exposing it to the world." </p><p>"I could use some help. We'll need to time our attacks perfectly if we want the public to find out at the same time as the government. We can't afford for them to cover it up." Anathema said.</p><p>"Then it's settled!" Crowley grinned. "Lawyer girl and I will work on ruining your ex-fiancé’s life, and you'll work on writing a best seller." </p><p>"What will I do?" Newt asked. </p><p>"Bring us tea and biscuits?" Ezra suggested. </p><p>Newt nodded. "Yeah, I can do that. I'll find some good cafes." </p><p>Ezra still couldn't believe that Gabriel had been so cruel and callous towards him, but it didn't matter now. With Anathema's help, he would never have to see the man again, and that was all he could ask for. </p><p>oOoOoOo</p><p>Madam Tracy grinned as a rather large and heavy envelop made its way to her desk. "Thank you, dear," she said. Shadwell had been running around, doing some tasks for Anathema these past few years relating to Gabriel, so she did her best not to get in his way. </p><p>When she had heard Ezra had broken up with the bastard, she was more than pleased. Though, when Anathema didn't immediately send information regarding Gabriel's corruption, she did get a bit worried. </p><p>Her worries were unfounded as a few short weeks later she received a massive package in the mail. In it detailed all of Gabriel’s crimes and scandals. She smiled as she flipped through the dense packet that retold tales of affairs with high-powered politicians, bribery of public officials, and embezzlement of charity money. There were plenty of pictures to accompany the report and Madam Tracy smiled as she recognized her husband’s handy work. </p><p>“Cheeky,” she said. The story for the papers was already typed up and ready to go, with just a few short edits needed to include some of the details Anathema hadn’t shared with her previously. She couldn’t wait to destroy that man. </p><p>
  
</p><p>oOoOoOo</p><p>Gabriel cursed as he stumbled off the boat at a port in Turkey. He had had the worst few days of his life. First, Ezra broke off his engagement, then the telegram service was down, then he missed the last train of the day to Port Said (and by extension, Ezra and that fucking camel herder!), and then he couldn’t figure out where Ezra had gone! He assumed his fiancé was heading back to London but what port was he going to? He tried to figure out what ferries had left before he arrived, but it was like the universe was working against him and no one seemed to care enough about him to give him the time of day. </p><p>Finally, he managed to get a ticket to Iskenderun (wherever the hell that was) and sent a telegram to his lawyers telling them to fix this. He wasn’t sure what they would do, but by god, they were going to do something. He had sacrificed too much and had gone too far to lose everything now. He would find Ezra, get him back, marry him immediately, and then maybe call a button man to blip off that good for nothing witch. </p><p>First, he had to get back to England as soon as possible, and that meant getting a train. </p><p>“Gabriel Messenger?” a man said, coming up to him with a stack full of papers. </p><p>“What?” he spat. Hopefully, this was good news from his lawyers. </p><p>“I’ve been instructed to give you this.” He handed Gabriel an envelope and a newspaper. “Have a good day, sir,” </p><p>“Yeah, whatever.” He glanced at the paper, the color draining from his face as he took in the bold title and picture that was him with one of his mistresses. </p><p>“American Politician Exposed for Theft From Charity Organization! How did that woman manage to get that picture of me?” He felt faint, his heart was pounding and his palms felt sweaty. He couldn’t even bear to read the rest of the report.</p><p>Instead, he sat down on a bench and looked through the envelope. They were all telegrams, from so many people. His lawyers had all abandoned him and taken plea deals with the government so as not to serve jail time. They were going to tell them everything. There was a scathing one from Thaddeus Dowling that made it clear that Gabriel was the shit on the bottom of his shoes. </p><p>So many letters and telegrams from people all denouncing him, accusing him, and leaving him. He had no allies. He had lost everything. The moment he set foot back in the UK, he’d be arrested and sent to jail with a bunch of unruly, vicious thugs! He had to leave everything behind. He couldn’t even go back to the estate and pick up his things. Oh, that witch was probably combing through them now, looking for any other things she could pin on him. </p><p>He realized, with a start, that the only money he had left was what was on his person and a few banks back in America. The rest was kept away in London. </p><p>He pulled out his wallet and counted what he had. Only fifty pounds were left on his person. He still needed to get a hotel and food! And he had to be careful since he was certain many European countries would love to extradite him to the UK. </p><p>He had to get a ferry back to America. He looked around at the bustling port and for the first time, he truly didn’t know how he was going to get out of this. Even if he did get back to the US, he was sure no one would want to hire him again. His life, everything he had worked for, was ruined. </p><p>There was one last letter he had yet to look at, in handwriting he didn’t recognize. </p><p>
  <em>You should have let him go when you had the chance. Enjoy looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Anthony James Crowley</em>
</p><p>What little color that was left in Gabriel’s face drained as he recognized the name. James Crowley. The camel herder was James Crowley’s son. He never stood a chance. </p><p>Looking up, at the sparkling blue waters of the Mediterranean, Gabriel sat on the bench, the letter gripped so tightly, his knuckles turned white. </p><p>Gabriel Messenger, a once-promising politician with a lovely fiancé and a perfect life, was now a disgraced criminal, a man who would never be respected again. Even the rats and the cockroaches would turn away from him in disgust. And there was nothing he could do about it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Last chapter next week 😭 I don't want it to end.</p><p>Madam Tracy's Newspaper Article on Tumblr: https://springapreppe.tumblr.com</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0034"><h2>34. Epilogue: Madam Tracy Writes a Review</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy New Years! This is the last and final chapter, *cries*. I'll respond to all of your guys' comments this weekend but I wanted to finish up with one last celebration that 2020 is finally over! See you next time, maybe on a different adventure, maybe in a different place. You never know.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They were sitting in a hotel room on a quiet street. Ezra was on his typewriter, clacking away as he rushed to write their latest adventure before the events left his brain. Crowley was sprawled on the bed, flicking through the newspaper. </p><p>There wasn’t usually anything of interest in the newspaper. He was just reading through it because he was bored and wanted to feel productive. No one could argue that reading a newspaper was unproductive. He was learning about the world, after all. </p><p>His eyes caught an article and he grinned. </p><p>“Angel,” he said, sitting up to face his love. </p><p>“Hm?” It was almost impossible to pull Ezra away from his typewriter when he was entranced such as he was tonight, but there were a few ways to get him away from his work. </p><p>Food, and-- “It looks like the first reviews of ‘The Russian Game’ are in.” </p><p>Ezra’s fingers froze. “Good?” </p><p>“Well, it’s Madam Tracy, so I doubt it’ll be bad. She loves you. She even let us stay over in her Chalet in Switzerland.” </p><p>Ezra turned to him and smiled. “Oh, that was such a lovely time. She was such a good host, though I can’t say the same for her husband. How does someone like her end up with someone like him?” </p><p>Crowley sniffed. “My guess is he’s entertainment. Hard to be bored with a man like that. Now, do you want to read the review or not?” He held out the paper. </p><p>Ezra stared at the paper. </p><p>“You know you want to.” </p><p>“Oh, I couldn’t possibly. What if they’re bad?” </p><p>“What if they’re good? Seriously, I don’t think you’ve ever written a bad book.” </p><p>“You’re only saying that because you want to have sex.” His cheeks turned pink.</p><p>Crowley rolled his eyes. “That, and you’ve hit the New York Times bestseller list for every one of your books. Everyone from Hollywood Starlets to big shot politicians read your books. You literally have not touched the money your mother left you because you make so much with your books. Face it, Ezra, you’re good.” </p><p>He bit his lip and then sighed. “Could you… could you read it for me?” </p><p>Crowley knew this was coming. Of course, it was a little game they played. He didn’t mind, reading out loud to Ezra, especially the reviews. But he always asked. Just in case. </p><p>“Alright.” He smoothed out the sheet and pulled the lamp closer. “‘The Russian Game’ is Ezra Fell’s latest and greatest romantic adventure novel.” He looked up. “See, angel, latest and greatest. Can’t have a bad review with those two words.” </p><p>“Oh, get on with it, you fiend.” </p><p>He chuckled. “Demanding, aren’t we?” </p><p>“Crowley!” </p><p>“Alright, alright.” There would be plenty of time to tease him later. And oh, was Crowley going to tease him good. It wasn’t great sex until your partner was begging for it, after all. “This installment takes us to chilly Russian destinations. From small towns to lavish parties in cities like St. Petersburg and Moscow. And the dashing, handsome, charismatic Mr. Anthony J. Crowley also makes a return.” </p><p>“You added that in!” Ezra scolded. </p><p>“Hm, nope. No, I did not. Look, it’s right here.” Crowley grinned and held the paper out for Ezra to read. All he got was a glare in response. “I can’t help it if you write me in such a flattering way, angel; the handsome and dashing rogue.” </p><p>Ezra blushed again, caught once more. </p><p>“The most memorable scene and one that will have readers everywhere wishing for a Mr. Crowley of their own is a particularly lascivious and delicious scene involving a snowstorm, a roaring fire, and a bearskin rug. Dear reader, I do not have to tell you that if Mr. Crowley is even half as good of a lover as Mr. Fell writes him to be, then Mr. Fell is a very lucky man indeed.” Crowley looked up. “Angel,” he said in mock horror. “Have you been publishing our intimate moments for the whole world to read?” </p><p>“Oh, I always ask if you’re okay with it!” Ezra cried. This wasn’t the first time they were having this conversation. </p><p>Crowley knew full well that Ezra often added in a sex scene or two to his books, and he always took notes on which ones. It helped future love-making sessions be even better than previous ones. Sure, quickies and normal sex were all well and good. But it was nice to have something much more romantic, much more erotic, and much more mindblowing as a treat. And Ezra loved his treats. </p><p>“It seems to me,” Crowley drawled, teasing Ezra slightly, “that your readers take too much pleasure in visualizing you in your more intimate moments.” </p><p>“Me?” he squeaked. Adorable. “I think they’re more interested in having you as a lover. It’s in my point of view so I’m a conduit for those who read the stories.” </p><p>He shook his head. “Maybe some of them. But I’m willing to bet that most of your readers love picturing you naked, pressed into the ground, or bed, or bearskin rug. Hands desperately clawing at my back and you crying out in pleasure.” </p><p>Ezra swallowed and crossed his legs. The motion did not go unnoticed.</p><p>“Oh, I’m picturing it now, angel.” Crowley closed his eyes and leaned back. “Your legs around my waist. If bearskin rug moment is the moment I’m thinking of, your body is cold from the snow, tips on your ears and nose are pink as are your cheeks. But the fire and the ecstasy of the moment are causing parts of you to burn. And of course my cock nestled so deeply inside you--”</p><p>“That’s quite enough!” Ezra cut him off. </p><p>Crowley opened his eyes, pleased to see his love a brilliant shade of red, hands clasped on his lap as his legs squeezed and rubbed together. </p><p>“I have to finish this chapter and I won’t have you distracting me.” </p><p>“Alright, alright.” Crowley could play this game. He could play this game all night. It only made the eventual act all the more pleasurable. “I’m almost done.”</p><p>He picked back up the newspaper and ignored his growing erection. Soon enough, he would have his angel exactly where he wanted him. “It is in this book that one has to wonder if and when Mr. Crowley will--” His eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he saw the ending of the sentence. He started coughing in his haste to choke off the words before they were formed by his tongue. </p><p>“Crowley, dear? Are you alright?” Ezra said, getting up and rubbing his back. </p><p>“Yeah, angel. Look, the rest is pretty standard. She loved it, of course. She can’t wait for the next installment, of course. I’m a dashing and handsome rogue, of course. How about you finish up your chapter? Then we can make another ‘scene’ together?” He waggled his eyebrows. </p><p>Ezra stepped back, examining him. “You’re hiding something from me.” </p><p>“No.” Yes. </p><p>“You always read the review in its entirety. Why won’t you finish it this time?” </p><p>“Mm, nothing much to say. I mean, it’s Madam Tracy. She loves your work. Never has a bad thing to say about it.” </p><p>“Then finish the review.” </p><p>“No?” It was difficult to argue with Ezra. He almost always gave into that pleading look. </p><p>“Oh, oh god! There is something awful isn’t there?” </p><p>Shit, that was not what Crowley wanted to happen. “No, angel. I swear. It’s all positive.” </p><p>“Was it that bit about the dinner party? Oh, I knew that was boring. I never should have kept that in.” </p><p>“No, no, it’s not bad.” </p><p>“And who thought it was a good idea to go to Russia? What romantic and adventurous things do people want to read about in Russia?”</p><p>Crowley waved his hands helplessly, trying to figure out a way to calm Ezra down. Before he could stop him, Ezra snatched the paper up. </p><p>“Oh, I have to know! I have to know so that I can be better.” </p><p>“Angel, I swear, it’s nothing!” </p><p>“It is in this book one has to wonder,” Ezra mumbled, “if and when Mr. Crowley will--” He paused. </p><p>Crowley buried his head in his hands. </p><p>“If and when Mr. Crowley will finally pop the question.” Ezra paused again. “Upon rereading ‘The Russian Game’ in preparation for this review, I came to wonder why Mr. Crowley and Mr. Fell are not already engaged to be married. Some have speculated that they are, but have not released the details to the public. However, given the intimate moments Mr. Fell paints for his readers, giving them the fantasy of a tender and caring lover who is also a bit rough around the edges, coupling that with erotic scenes that make everyone who has ever had sex jealous of the couple, one cannot say that Mr. Fell would keep the readers from what is undoubtedly a grand romantic gesture of love. From the downright lewd night in the onsen to the debauched and lustful, almost animalistic love-making in the heat of the Indian jungles, one has to wonder if Mr. Crowley or Mr. Fell will ever actually propose. As a reader, I await this development in every novel, hoping that it is the adventure and the romance I dream of.” </p><p>Ezra bit his lip, continuing to stare at the paper. </p><p>Crowley rubbed the back of his neck. That asshole, Gabriel, had caused a lot of psychological damage that still affected Ezra to this day. Crowley tried his best, but there was no handbook for this sort of thing. He wondered if he had done the wrong thing, not being more open to Ezra about marriage and whatnot. He couldn’t read Ezra’s mind. He didn’t know how this was affecting him. So, he took a deep breath and decided honesty was the best policy. </p><p>“I want to marry you, Ezra.” They had lived in bliss for five years, traveling the world. Going on adventures Crowley had thought were impossible. But one could not live in a fairytale forever. They should have had this conversation long ago. </p><p>“But?” Ezra said. </p><p>“I never wanted to pressure you,” Crowley admitted. “I guess I figured if I never brought it up, then it would never be a problem. Except, that’s not really what I should have done.”</p><p>Ezra sighed and sat on the bed next to him. “My dear,” he said, placing his hand on Crowley’s. “I’m sorry as well. I should have been more open with my wants and desires. I would very much like to get married if that’s what you want as well.” </p><p>Crowley felt a weight lift from his shoulders. “It very much is. But let me do it the right way,” he said. “I don’t want this to be the tale you tell your readers, or our friends when we’re old and gray. I love you.” </p><p>Ezra lay his head on Crowley's shoulder. “I love you too. I’m sorry it took a book review to get us finally talking.” </p><p>“I suppose we’ll have to work out our communication skills,” he said with practiced calm. Inside, he was practically dancing. The ring he had bought at the market today while Ezra was sending telegrams to his agent and Anathema was weighing on his mind. It was burning a hole in his suitcase and his mind was constantly arguing with itself as to whether or not he had made a mistake. Whether or not he had jumped the gun. Now that he had Ezra’s admittance that it was something he was thinking of as well, that made the entire purchase better. </p><p>And next month, when they were back in Egypt, underneath the stars of the desert, Crowley was going to propose. He couldn’t wait.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy New Years! Fun fact, this was actually the first thing I ever wrote for this story. Yup, the epilogue of all things. <br/>Thank you so much for everyone who has come with me on this journey. This year has been so hard for so many people, and I am definitely included in that. I wrote at the very beginning that I wanted this to be story full of escapism and adventure and I do think I pulled that off. But, at the same time, I think Aziraphale’s own journey was very much me coming to terms with my own situation. If you think about it, he was essentially quarantining. Yes, he was technically still moving around and going places, but he was stuck with one person for months on end and unable to do things like go out to eat and see friends. This year has taken so much away from me and has brought new problems up to the surface that I really wish I didn’t have to deal with, but like Aziraphale, it’s also given me the opportunity to really reflect on who I am and what I want. I know it sounds cheesy, the whole ‘use quarantine to reflect and work on self-improvement,’ and if you didn’t get to do that, then that’s okay. We all had bigger things to worry about other than getting a meditation habit started or working out regularly. For me, this story was really a way to come to terms with some things in my life and about myself, and also to rediscover why I love writing so much. I’ve been struggling for a few years to write original fiction and even fanfiction. I’ve been stuck, but making my way through the desert with Crowley and Aziraphale to search for a lost amulet has reignited my passion and my love. So, if you’ve made it this far, thank you so much for being with me, leaving comments and kudos and bookmarks. I hope, in the end, that if nothing else, this fic gave you the opportunity to escape from your life for a bit and take time to just enjoy a place where you felt loved and at peace. Here’s to 2021, may it not be as bad as 2020.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Me: I want to write a soft story full of escapism and adventure.<br/>Also me: Let’s traumatize Aziraphale and make Gabriel an abusive asshole!<br/>I promise, this story isn’t going to get as dark as some of my other stuff and there will be a happy ending! I hope everyone enjoyed this. </p><p>Also, I may have watched The Mummy (1999) too much during quarantine so... I'm not ashamed.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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